


The Order

by Guccichoochie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Complete, Crime Fighting, Dragons, Drama & Romance, F/M, Jealousy, Love Triangles, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Romanian Dragon Sanctuary (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 65,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guccichoochie/pseuds/Guccichoochie
Summary: DELILAH DELACROIX spent a blissful year tucked away at the dragon sanctuary with Charlie Weasley, and another is all mapped out - until she recieves a letter from Albus Dumbledore, summoning her to Hogwarts along with the Order of the Phoenix, declaring it a matter of the upmost importance.The second wizarding war is looming, and her new job is to help the cause - she's prepared to do whatever it takes to avenge her parents untimely deaths, whilst also proving herself as an Auror.SIRIUS BLACK spent many of his tucked away in Azkaban, so, amongst all of his usual mayhem, is fighting his own personal battles.The second wizarding war is looming, and his new job is to stay out of the way - however, he's prepared to do whatever it takes to win over Delilah's heart - for she is a girl who quickly captures his.𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑂𝑅𝐷𝐸𝑅© 𝐺𝑈𝐶𝐶𝐼𝐶𝐻𝑂𝑂𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐸, 2020
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> THE WIZARDING WORLD and original HARRY POTTER characters belong to the original author - I would strongly recommend watching the video about JK Rowling made by Contrapoints on Youtube in order to educate yourself on her transphobic tweets, essays and comments - which I do not support! 
> 
> THE PLOT DIFFERS FROM THE OOTP TIMELINE slightly, and includes mature themes such as s*x, bl*od and violence - further trigger and content warnings have been added where I deem necessary! 
> 
> THE PLOT and OC'S all belong to me! 
> 
> This has been reposted by me, the original author, after re-editing, which is why it may look familiar to you! It is definitely not my best writing though :) 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy it and thanks for reading! ‐R x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer (because my anxiety is threatening any sign of a normal sleep pattern until I have addressed it, for some reason)... this is the first fanfic that I've ever written, and for some reason I feel the need to clarify that.

EVERY GREAT STORY starts atop  
of a Hungarian Horntail, Chinese Fireball, or Ukrainian Ironbelly - or, at least, every great story starts that way according to Charlie Weasley, who spent his entire childhood telling Delilah so. 

If tucked inside the Burrow, surrounded by sprawling meadows and trickling streams, Delilah saw that it was very easy to think much the same - but edge further, spread your own crooked wings, and the realisation hits that every great story starts with a tough beginning. 

Yes, she could spend a radiant summer sweeping through delicate clouds, listening to the gentle murmur of tall lemongrass fields - or, she could choose to fight. 

Ignorance is not always bliss,  
and the harsh reality took shape in the form of a envelope, addressed to Delilah, and sent from Dumbledore. 

For outside the protective shell of the Burrow, was a wizarding world simmering on the brink of war - crawling with serpentine followers; stopping at nothing to appease the Dark Lord. He who had spelled the very existence of her parents away. 

So, perhaps, every great story starts with those that seek vengeance. The bitter taste of tears still seeping in her mouth, Delilah was hellbent on seeing the demise of a man who sought anything but. 

This story starts after an encounter with a dragon - atop of a steep hill. 

Delilah walked through a fine mist of fog as quickly as she could, clutching her arm as pain ran up and down it - something seething out, like thick poison; making her realise that it was soaked in blood. 

The flesh burnt violently red, and she held back stinging tears, pearly teeth gritting together as she gained her bearings. 

She had wanted to make a good first impression on the highly talented and respectable individuals that made up the Order of the Pheonix - instead, she had gotten caught up in her and Charlie's attempt to rescue an illegal pet dragon.

Her apparation had been successful - in the near distance, she could see Hogwarts in all of its glory. It towered above her, each turret as grand as the next, with terracotta owls fluttering to and fro. 

As far as she could see, many of the lights were off - which meant the entrance was dark and caliginous as she approached it. 

A cloaked figure turned on their heel to walk away, presumably unaware of her presence - she panted, mouth sticky and dry, before finally choking out:

"I'm here! I'm here!" 

Professor McGonagall turned to face her, alerted, observing the girl with pursed lips whilst looking awfully concerned. 

Which, after all, was rather understandable - Delilah looked not only out of breath, but manic, both wide eyed and rosy cheeked - not to forget the arm soaked in blood. 

In fact, the arm soaked in blood was the last thing that Delilah recalled, until she awoke in the bright and airy hospital wing, a wet rag pressed against her forehead as she attempted to sit up. 

"I'm going to be late for the meeting," she spluttered, although a force pressed her back down into the bed - a man with an air of familiarity, with aristocratic eyebrows, a mane of thick hair, and lips that curled upwards ever so slightly. 

"Very late," he replied, looking at an imaginary watch, "an hour late." 

It dawned on her who he was - with such a face that once adorned each and every page of the Daily Prophet, it wasn't one easily forgotten: 

"Sirius Black?" She asked, voice like a strangled croak as she tried to get up again, only to be met with a stern look from him. 

"At your service," he replied, his tone low. 

Many cabinets were rummaged around in before he found the correct ointment - because, of course, Madam Pomfrey had a remedy for every disastrous condition that a Hogwarts student could find themselves in. 

"Is - is everyone waiting for me? Because I can be in the meeting, and sort this out after - " 

" - the meeting is a load of wank," Sirius waved his hand dismissively  
as he tore a cleansing wipe open,  
the smell of lime zest and chlorine clinging to the metallic sting of her arm as he used it to smear the blotched scarlet away. 

She scoffed, "well, as you can see, I went to a great deal of trouble to get here - it would be nice to at least attend it, no matter how much wank it is loaded with." 

With a tilt of his head and a breif raise of an eyebrow, he looked up at her, seemingly amused, "I was taking it easy on you, but your wish is my command." 

Then, without further notice, he took some of the ointment and swiped it into the deep frash, making Delilah hiss in shock. 

" - sorry!" He said quickly, his intense concentration turning towards the pockets of his emerald jacket as he patted them, revealing a silver flask and offering it to her, "Remus doesn't like it when I give him a warning first." 

Smokey and swirled together, the burnt taste of whiskey was enough to distract her for the remainder of the application - before she knew it, the drink was gone and her arm was wrapped in a thick bundle of cotton bandages. 

"Pretty narly cut, that one. You'll have to swap the bandages frequently so that it can be cleaned. Feeling better now?" He asked, his smile growing larger as he noticed the empty flask. 

She realised that she had probably drank more than he had expected her to, and sheepishly passed it back to him whilst wiping her mouth with her functioning hand. 

"I am - thank you." 

"Great," he remarked, "let's hope that this Order business isn't full of baby dragons - you'll end up with no limbs." 

"Not to worry," she replied, feet finding the stability of the linoleum underneath her, "I don't mix personal life with work." 

"Personal life?" He couldn't help but ask, as he guided her towards the oak doors, "is Dumbledore recruiting vikings?" 

"I'm lending a warship or too," Delilah replied, almost grinning, "figured it might come in handy." 

It was almost as if her playfulness came at a surprise to him - his eyes were piercingly grey, and analysing her with each and every step she took, marvelling each twist and turn of an olden corridor; each whisper and gasp of a vibrant portrait. 

Dumbledore's office was guarded by a enthralling statue of a golden phoenix - quite fitting, considering the circumstances for her arrival to the school in the first place - which spun to reveal a spiral staircase once Sirius spoke the password. 

"I'll . . . see you around?" She asked, wondering if his wavering meant that he would be leaving. 

"Calm it, viking girl," he teased, "I might think the meeting is a load of wank - but I still have to attend it." 

His gaze was more intense than ever - she couldn't seem to look anywhere but. 

Awkward silence was broken as voices echoed down the staircase and towards them, wrapping the duo back into normal conversation. 

Gone was his sweet yet bitter front, now replaced by oozing charm and wit as he accompanied the Order to yet another room - ignoring Delilah, entirely. 

It would be easy to assume that nothing were amiss - but it mirrored the very front that Delilah held with Charlie, and she knew that something, a spark, a flicker, had been shared. 

And it was only the first day. 

So, perhaps, a conclusion can be drawn once and for all: all great stories start with the potential for budding, blossoming romance.


	2. Chapter Two

STAINED GLASS WINDOWS spilt russet, crimson shadows across the meeting room table, and swept in air that was harsh and bitter, nipping at Delilah's skin and washing over a trail of goosebumps. 

Molly took notice and quickly sacrificed her shawl, fussing over Delilah as if she were still a dainty child as she draped it across her shoulders. 

"Merlin's beard, what was Charlie thinking? I'm so sorry, deary, that he dragged you into that mess - you both really ought to be more careful! How is the arm now - is the shawl alright, deary?" 

The soft cotton felt just like a warm hug from Molly - an everlasting, squishy overload of bubbly washing up liquid, buttery gingerbread houses, crackling fires and nostalgia. 

"The shawl is wonderful," Delilah smiled, "and don't be silly - if it weren't for him, I probably would've ended up with a lot more than this. I feel perfect."

Molly and Arthur had known her since she was a child, so they could read her like a book - and with enough kids to form a boy band, she was now well aware of spotting when someone was telling a lie or not. 

With a pointed, stern look, she analysed Delilah so intently that it forced her to have to insist, "I'm telling the truth!"

After inspecting the arm as if she was an expert on magical creature injuries, Sirius chiming in to seek approval of his handiwork. 

"See? She's right as rain," he nodded, resting his head upon his hand against the curved oak wood. 

"She'll be right as rain once she's got a cup of tea down her," Molly barked, "where is Albus?" 

They had, indeed, been waiting a long time - first, outside whilst waiting for McGonagall to fetch the last of the attendees, and then in his office whilst waiting for Delilah to wake up. 

Minutes trickled by before he finally arrived - the candlelight flickering against the meticulous plans that he splayed across the table, casting an ominous penumbra over his sparkling eyes as he peered down at them through half moon spectacles. 

It was harrowing - the yellowed paper, the sliver of hope in his eyes, the sliver of helplessness in his eyes, the creak of each lung as silence filled the room. 

Delilah focused, instead, on raindrops splattered against the window pane, racing one another to the bottom. After one emerged victorious, Dumbledore finally spoke:

"Upon Harry Potter's latest encounter, we can assume that Voldemort is building an army. This has induced the need for the reformation of the Order - the reason why I have called you all here today." 

"The Order is reforming?" The man next to Tonks asked, fiddling with the cuff of his frayed cardigan. 

"Indeed, Remus," Dumbledore nodded solemnly, "I believe it to be of upmost importance and in our best interest - after all, we are stronger united than divided." 

"Right," Tonks clasped her hands together, "so, what are the tasks? Where do we need to go? How will we - " 

"The time will come for me to inform you of the tasks at hand," Dumbledore interrupted, his tone clear and precise, "this meeting is not intended for delegation, but rather obligation - no one here is obligated to join, or re-join. . ." 

Delilah tuned out the discussion as she watched the scroll loop around the table, a purple quill hovering in the air above it should someone choose to sign - Sirius scribbled his name down hastily before passing it to Delilah, who signed and then re-focused on Dumbledore. 

". . . vital importance that I remind you all that the Order of the Pheonix is a secret - as is the headquarters, courtesy of Mr Black." 

"Headquarters?" Delilah asked.

"Headquarters, where future meetings will take place on a weekly basis, starting from next week. Twelve, Grimmauld Place is both inconspicuous and accommodating due to the lack of residents thus far - so it is free for those in the Order to inhabit, et cetera," Dumbledore explained. 

"Starting from next week? What shall we do until then?" Molly chipped in. 

Sirius, now leaning forward in his chair, spoke up, "If you would like to busy yourself with a task, Mrs Weasley, the headquarters needs cleaning and organising - to put it lightly. If people are going to stay, you know." 

"Of course," Molly nodded, "I'll be able to put my sons to good use, I reckon!"

"Well, that settles it," McGonagall tilted her chin upwards, looking slightly shaken as she concluded, "to the Second Class Order of the Pheonix." 

Goblets popped across the table, the deepened mahogany shadows dancing across the metallic surfaces as each member reached for one and chimed, "the Order!" 

Together, they were alone against a wizarding world convinced of the dark wizard's absense - Delilah could sense it. As though he were watching, waiting, ready to take her in the same way that her parents had been. 

Raspberry and cinnamon stained her lips as she drank from the goblet, and once finished, the meeting was over and the attendees dismissed. 

"I missed you," Tonks remarked, rubbing her knuckle against Delilah's thick braids teasingly as she followed her outside. 

"Missed you too, darling," Delilah smiled, "Charlie really wanted you to be there, he kept on saying that he was drinking 'for two' - every drink that he had was swiftly mimicked with another - godric, he was a state!" 

"Ugh, I wish I could've gone - serves me right for not paying attention in Auror classes, I s'pose. Never you mind - you can tell me all about it when we're out of these cats and dogs. . ." 

"Good idea," Remus agreed, turning to Sirius, "heading for Hogsmeade and apparating from there, old friend?"

"Indeed," Sirius breathed, leading the group towards the quaint village in the far distance, with slanted thatching and soggy flower beds. 

The rain quickly stopped, leaving behind rolling hills of emerald sprinkled with dewdrops. As they all made their way down the hill, the same way that Delilah had rushed up earlier, they made lighthearted conversation. 

"Godric, you walked up here with that?" Tonks panted, boots thudding against the ground with each heavy step, "no wonder we were waiting zonks." 

"Alas, we were kept entertained," Remus chuckled, "I can't shake the thought of Dumbledore in Bora Bora - he spoke to me about it in a lot of detail." 

"Lucky bastard," Sirius joked, "I missed out - had to patch up you, didn't I?" 

"Shut up, Sirius - you volunteered to help McGonagall!" Tonks corrected him, which made him seem quite embarrassed, "anyway, Remus, it's alright for some. I have to live with the image directly seared into my brain." 

"What?!" Sirius asked, bewildered, walking down the hill backwards to face her. 

"Yep," Tonks mock-shuddered, laughing, "He showed me not one, but ten photos of him sightseeing. My sleep paralysis demon seems less scary now."

Stories of the tragic short lived trip broke the ice until they finally reached the apparation point - where they stood still, looking out into the foggy distance. 

It felt less eerie outside then it did inside. Perhaps Hogwarts being so deadly quiet had unsettled them, or the idea that they were no longer safe. 

"Ready?" Tonks stretched out her arm, linking it with Delilah's. 

"As I'll ever be."


	3. Chapter Three

THE PEELING BLACK exterior of Grimmauld Place stood before them - something that Delilah couldn't ogle at for long, as Remus rushed the girls in quickly, shutting out the rain once he was inside. 

"Home sweet home." Sirius muttered. 

Looking briefly at Sirius, she noticed his displeased demeanour. It was easy to understand why at a first glance around the place - a broken chandelier hung above them, with cobwebs woven around it and inside the cracked wallpaper that surrounded them - overall, it was dingey and claustrophobic. 

"You aren't a muggle." He added, pointing towards an obnoxiously large frame, concealed by velvet curtains and hung at the end of the hallway. 

He mumbled an explanation about Mrs Black not being keen on mudbloods - something that she liked to make known - and Delilah soon realised that this was his childhood home. 

"She would be right. Both of my parents are wizards. Were wizards," she quickly corrected herself. 

Apparation made Delilah feel dizzy and sick; like someone was pressing down on her, and it didn't help that she had apparated three times in the past twenty four hours. 

Or, perhaps it was just the feeling of alcohol wearing off. . . she scratched her head, asking how close Grimmauld Place was to Hogwarts. 

"We're in Islington, London. Feeling alright?" Sirius asked, still concerned about her injury, and noticing her expression - he seemed to do that an awful lot, Delilah noted. 

Before she could insist that she was fine, Remus had broken them apart. 

"Come along now, come on!" Remus insisted. Following his orders, the group all piled into the dining room - Tonks, too unsettled to be seated once again, paced back and forth whilst making conversation. 

"Alastor said that he would be here next week to talk to us about Auror duties - until then, I s'pose we have to wait. . ." she cracked each of her knuckles, hair switching from a range of muted shades as she did so. 

Remus paused breifly, clearly trying to string a sentence together. 

He was clearly worrying about the entire situation in general, because he looked as if his thoughts had spiralled or gone into overdrive as he ran a hand through his mousy hair and bit his finger nail anxiously.

"I can't wrap my head around it. It's all happening again. But this time, it could be worse - " Remus began. 

" - let's not dwell on it, mate. James and Lily would want us to protect Harry, not be distracted by the past. There's nothing we can do to make any of this better apart from fight back." Sirius interrupted, shrugging it off. 

Whilst he was seemingly trying to comfort his friend, it was clear that he was as spiteful about any mention of the past, looking just as grossed out as he had when he looked at Snape. 

" - er," Delilah said, trying to find an excuse to let them converse in peace, "Molly told me that I should have tea. . . sugar and milk, anyone?"

"I like mine plain, thank you." Sirius said. 

Remus quickly added, "lots of milk, lots of sugar, if you don't mind?", and Delilah nodded, disappearing behind the doorframe.

Delilah could hear Tonks calling out to her, "Let me help you, Delly - whilst we do that, how about you spell away the cobwebs in here? Its filthy!" 

"Cheers," Delilah sighed, "can't find the kitchen anywhere - "

" - that's because it's downstairs, you melon," Tonks retorted, directing her towards a set of cramped stairs that led to the basement - revealing a slightly cleaner kitchenette and dining area (although still littered with old newspapers, half drunk cups of tea and empty bottles of firewhisky cluttered into each nook and cranny). 

"Tinkie, why on earth is the kitchen so far away?" Delilah asked her, using her wand to clear some of it into the bin. 

Tonks grumbled, "you know I hate it when you call me that. Don't go saying that around the others, will you?" 

Delilah wiggled her eyebrows, "and by the others you mean Remus." 

Tonks shot her a look as she took her wand and pointed it at the kettle that was on the stove and poured equal amounts of water into each of four cups, "The kitchen is below ground because back when residents lived here, they had house elves pottering around doing the work out of sight." 

Delilah couldn't help but grin, "and you're changing the subject. You aren't normally like this - you're normally quite confident. And you could get anyone you want. What's different with Remus?" 

"That's my issue! Whilst you've been off with Charlie, I've bumped into him a few times. But he brushes me off - he says he's too old, too poor, and a werewolf, so it wouldn't be right." 

"Excuses, excuses," Delilah tutted. 

"I know!" Tonks grabbed her hair, which turned from purple to red without her seeming to notice, "So I'm treading on eggshells around him now. He doesn't like confrontation, I've realised." 

"Romantic confrontation." Delilah added. She took the milk from out of the small fridge, but quickly put it back when she noticed that it had curdled. Luckily, she didn't take milk in her tea - not having milk could be Remus' punishment for messing her bestfriend around. 

"Well then, I've told you about Remus. Now you tell me about Charlie." She raised her eyebrows. Her hair had turned back to a bright purple, and her wand was tucked into the pocket of her plaid shirt. 

Delilah didn't quite know what to say. 

Charlie? Charlie. Charlie. 

"Oh, merlins beard. You mean to tell me that the months you spent away together, alone, meant nothing?" Tonks remarked. 

"Erm, I'll have you know, we are very good friends. Of course he would want to see me, but not in that way," she scoffed. 

"Right, right. And then he asked you to accompany him to a illegal dragon hideout, despite the fact that he's an expert at taming and freeing them himself?" 

Delilah felt herself blush profusely. Any mention of her other bestfriend liking her in a different way made her feel slightly giddy, but also slightly nervous. It didn't feel right, especially after all of these years.

"You're trying to find something that isn't there. Come on - the tea is going to go cold." 

"The tea is going to get spilt if you keep on knocking that great lump around," Tonks pointed at her arm, "go on, up you get." 

For the remainder of the evening, the four of them drank tea, and then transitioned to firewhisky, that burned the back of Delilah's throat after each gulp she took. They spoke about Hogwarts, about the dragon incident, and about their potential roles in the Order. 

"I swear to Merlin that I'll go insane if I'm trapped in this house any longer than I have to be," Sirius added as they talked about the Headquarters. 

Remus patted him on the back, "Come on, Padfoot, you managed to cope with twelve years locked up. Surely this is like a luxury holiday to you?" 

Sirius shook his head glumly, "In Azkaban, I knew that I was innocent. Here, I've never felt like I was. Everything that I did, said, or believed was wrong - I got punished for it." 

Remus comforted him by noting that the house would be filled with the rest of the members of the Order so frequently that he wouldn't even have time to reflect on it. Sirius, reluctantly, agreed, and moved the topic of conversation along swiftly, as if he didn't want to be too open about it for longer than a few minutes at a time. . .

. . . as if any mention of it would open the ground up, and swallow him whole. 

Eventually, it grew to a point where they all ought to have been tired, and retired to their individual rooms. Tonks was brushing her teeth when Remus finally shut the door to his room, and Sirius was trying to spruce up the spare room for Delilah, who tried to convince him that she wasn't all that fussed, so long as she had a warm blanket. 

"I can help Molly and the kids do it up, when they eventually get here." She said, and then added out of sympathy, "It sucks that you have to stay here, but it will suck a whole lot less when it's all tidy and less. . . well, you know." 

"Yeah, I know." 

A brief moment of silence passed between them before he leaned in closer to her. Feeling like the air around her was electric, Delilah was too distracted by the overwhelming feeling to realise that he just wanted to check her bandage. 

"As I thought, its gotten worse. You'll really need to be careful next time." 

"Wow, great advice Dr Black," she said with mock sarcasm. He rolled his eyes, and she remarked, "the next time I'm trying to capture a baby dragon, I'll ask it to be a bit more gentle." 

"Great idea. It should be fine," He said, "the injury, I mean. I'm no expert, but we can check on it tomorrow - and as reluctant as you might be, maybe asking Severus to check it out would be beneficial." 

"I'd rather it fall off." 

"Don't be silly. The worst of it will be a deep scar. If it makes you feel any better, I've got a few myself - not from dragons, though. Nobody's perfect, eh?" 

"Nobody's perfect," she affirmed. 

Her heart drummed against her chest rapidly, in some wild bid to escape - she couldn't seem to calm it, and pinned it down to the nerves that came from the change of scenery. 

He pulled away, delicate with the bandage, and rested his hand upon the door handle - a few rings had been added to a few of his fingers. 

"Goodnight." She said, to Sirius, walking away from the door. 

"Goodnight!" Tonks called out, making him laugh, attention once again elsewhere - something that Delilah supposed she should get used to, as she tucked herself into bed and slept off the light-headedness that her most recent escapades had brought her.


	4. Chapter Four

WHEN MORNING SUNSHINE warmed her fingers and crept over the old duvet, Delilah stirred from her slumber and realised that the room that Sirius had given her was actually his. 

Light was seeping in through a window on the other side of the room - illuminating posters of wizarding boy bands and Gryffindor Quidditch team shirts, all viciously split or torn in half. 

Far above the four walls of the room, the all too familiar sound of excited chattering eluded her, and out of curiosity Delilah bundled herself in the same outfit as the day previous in order to rush up the creaky staircase. 

Four flaming red heads of hair and one bushy ponytail - none other than the Weasleys and Hermione - were a delight to see after being cooped up in the same monotonous, drab setting. 

"Delly!" Ginny squealed, wrapping her in a tight hug. 

"Godric, I only saw you all a couple of days ago! I figured the next time we would see each other would be Christmas." Delilah said, returning the hug from Ginny. 

"Well, Mr and Mrs Weasley picked me up on the way here, and school starts in a few weeks - oh, she heard that the house needs cleaning?" Hermione said. She was holding a large book, which she handed to Ron, who was already carrying a few of them.

"Bloody hell, Fred and George could've apparated these up with them minutes ago - this isn't fair." Ron complained loudly, shuffling up the stairs whilst balancing the stack. The twins fistbumped one another, clearly happy to have gotten under their brothers skin. 

Having recently turned seventeen, they had been apparating around the Burrow all summer, and were clearly ready to continue doing so at Grimmauld Place before the Hogwarts restrictions applied. 

"With all that ice cream you ate last night, walking up and down a bit might do you some good," Hermione told him sternly. 

Ginny helped Ron out by taking half of the books, with ease, and carrying them into the room that the boys would all be staying in. He turned slightly red and followed suit, leaving the twins, Hermione and Delilah stood in the hallway together. 

"Children! Breakfast is ready!" Molly called up the many flights of stairs - Fred and George, with springs in their steps, beamed as they apparated away once more. 

Three floors down, Molly piled their plates with sausages, scrambled egfs, hash browns, mushrooms, tomatoes, bacon and baked beans - but even the smell of warm buttered toast was enough to make Delilah's mouth water, and she found herself mindlessly taking a seat in the corner of the room whilst talking to Fred and George about their business ideas that they had been testing out frequently (on whoever they could convince to do so). 

"Did you manage to get Charlie to try any of the Fever Fudge?" She asked them. 

"He refused - " George chortled, 

"- unsurprisingly. . . although he did say that we should try making something that would make one better at Quidditch - focus enhancers, stuff like that," Fred quipped.

"Boys, those are called performing enhancing drugs - highly illegal and frowned upon. You should know that, being Beaters and all!" Delilah scolded them, taking a bite out of the remaining toast on her plate. 

"Calm it, we never said that we would actually make them, did we?" George reassured her, then stating that he would sneak a Fever Fudge or two into Charlie's birthday cake the next time that they saw him. 

"So he's gone back to Romania, then?" Delilah implored, earning a nod from both boys. 

So, that's the end of the summer, then.

"Done with your plates, dears?" Molly chimed in, scurrying around them as she swept up loose crumbs with the rag that permanently resided on her shoulder. 

Delilah grinned, "yes. Thank you Molly - it was amazing." 

"Thank you Mother, it really was utterly splendid. Wouldn't you agree, Georgington?" Fred mocked in a posh accent, gently placing his plate on the counter for Molly. 

"Why, yes I would, Fredrickson. Rather depleteable. . . dare I say delectable? Mother, we will see you at noon," George placed a kiss on Molly's hand, who swatted him away with a tea towel. 

"Oh no you won't, I have a whole day's worth of cleaning for the both of you - " she began, but they had already apparated away, " - boys."

Hermione, clearly feeling sympathy for her, helped tidy up the counter and assured her that herself and Ginny would be able to help. 

"Thank you, deary, now go and get Ronald - tell him that he'll be eating dog food on toast if he doesn't hurry up!" Molly told her.

"And what about you, Delilah?" Molly asked her. 

"Me? With an arm like this, I'll try and help out as much as I can - more use to you than I am to Alastor, anyways," Delilah replied, thanking Molly once more before deciding to check on Tonks. 

Likewise to the staircases floors above her, the ones leading to the kitchen were equally as noisy, so it was a surprise to find herself bumping into Sirius, having not noticed that he had been walking down them. 

"Oops, sorry!" She exclaimed, turning sideways to slide past him. 

"No worries, doll." He replied quickly, rushing down the rest of them without looking back up. 

Doll. 

Delilah wanted to pinch herself to bring her thoughts back to reality - it was just another word. Heck, he probably called Snape doll too. 

Thoughts began swimming around in her mind - perhaps it was a slip of the tounge, a pure mishap - besides, it sounded an awful lot like an amalgamation of 'Delilah', did it not? 

The rest of the day was spent completing activities that took her mind off of it - discussing her arm with Alastor, planning out Auror training, then, returning to a house cluttered with boxes and cleaning supplies. 

Molly gave Delilah the futile task of cleaning the windows and making the beds, which was fairly easy compared to Ron, who was facing his fears of spiders against his will each time that he opened a drawer in the living room. 

It was night time when the teenagers all went to bed. Delilah, having been confined in the dingey house for the entirely of the day, was determined for a breath of fresh air - to feel that same rush of wind sweep through her hair, or at the very least watch the same orangey orb travel through the horizon. 

The small cove at the back of the garden was a perfect hideaway - long overgrown, badly lit and perfectly comforting if the light at the end of her wand was illuminating the tall, wispy grass. 

A steel garden bench allowed her to sit and gaze up at the velvety abyss, where minutes could fly by in little than a mere blink of an eye. 

Then, there was shuffling behind her. 

"Delacroix?" Sirius spoke out, his feet scuffing and stumbling around below him in a clumsy bid to locate her. She turned around and smiled, patting the bench beside her. 

"Yeah, it's me." She replied, lazily. She could just about make out his figure as he sat beside her, the bench creaking as he leaned back against it. 

"How are you?" He asked.

"Good. . . how are you?" 

"I'm good," he said calmly, his stare straight ahead as he watched the sky change from colour to colour. 

Delilah shook her head, although he couldn't see her, and muttered, "I mean, how are you - truely?" 

"Huh?" He looked down at her again. 

"You know. . . last night, when you spoke to Remus about how you never felt innocent in this house - like how everything that you did, said or believed was wrong. . . I just - well, that must be tough, coming back here - and you're clearly drunk right now, but how are you, truely?" 

He breathed in, "It's nothing to mope around about. I. . . I can brave it. The rest of the Order is doing shit that's brave. So I can do it - I must do it - too." 

"Right." 

He was utterly nonchalant about being so lost, that it would almost impress her if it were not so peculiar. 

When he was deep in thought, he turned to stone - aristocratic eyebrows carved deep into stone, chipping away into each contour of his face - his eyes, also grey, at least had some warmth to them. 

"Sometimes bravery is at its strongest during a moment of weakness, Sirius," Delilah spoke as quietly as he did now, "I've only just met you, but during that time, you've shown that you are brave straight off the bat. You don't have to compare yourself to others." 

"But I do." He whispered, looking back out at the sky again, swaying slightly - proving that he was not a statue, after all. 

They stayed like that for a while.

Then, almost as if he had flipped a switch to change mood, he chuckled and said, "My back is killing me. There's a reason why I never bothered cleaning the sodding place - I had no clue where to start." 

"Molly must of gone easy on me because of my arm - but you have nice clean sheets to sleep in tonight, as does everyone else, so that's progress." 

"And how is your arm?" 

"Not sure. I haven't checked on it in a while," her voice shrunk. 

"Lumos," there was a bright glow, "That's better," he said, now that he could see her. He held his wand between his teeth and took her arm, undoing the bandage to check the wound. 

Delilah didn't have to look at it to tell that it was getting worse, she could tell by the pain. Some fresh air on it felt nice, however. 

He grunted and wrapped the soft material around her arm again. 

"What's the verdict?" She asked politely. 

"That we need to go back inside. It's freezing." His voice was stifled as he was still holding the wand between his teeth. Delilah reached out with her better hand and took his wand from him, an action that made him lean in to snatch it back - then, further, which meant that she had to swerve to avoid him. 

"You were stumbling around a minute ago," she said, as if it were a warning. 

"I'm not tipsy," he replied, shaking his head gleefully, "haven't even had a drink - Molly's fault - and it's your fault for the stumbling, having chosen to hide away in the part of the garden that resembles a jungle!"

And she could tell that it was the truth - so, she handed back the wand. Then, under the blanket of stars that comforted them, he pulled in for the kiss first, which she happily returned.

Electricity ran through her body, starting from the very tips of her toes and finishing as a warm fuzzy feeling in her head. 

It lasted for a few moments, before they both pulled away. There was no awkwardness, no tension. Just an odd feeling, the feeling that you get when something falls into place. It was a breath of fresh air and the feeling of empty lungs all at once - entirely new, and entirely the same. 

She wanted to feel this way forever.


	5. Chapter Five

LEANING AGAINST THE kitchen cabinets and wearing a smug grin, Fred watched as Delilah padded into the room much later on in the day than originally intended, and he took a long sip of coffee before teasingly saying, 

"Morning, sunshine!"

He was not alone: both Remus and Sirius were sat at the table, staring down into their own drinks like two toddlers that had just been told off - although Sirius clearly couldn't hide the grin that tugged on his lips, highlighting all that she needed to know - he had told the others about the kiss. 

"Good morning, Fred," she replied, fixing up breakfast whilst trying to look unreadable. 

She did not address the elephant in the room - she couldn't quite tell how much they knew. Heck, she didn't even know if Sirius had spent all night twisting and turning in bed in the same manner that she had. 

The fuzzy feeling was unshakable, and she wanted to detest it, although had no such success. Every blank moment was spent reliving the kiss: how his hands had run through her hair, how their bodies had collided beautifully, and how his tongue had slipped past hers. . . 

"Had a nice. . . sleep?" Fred questioned, taking another long, drawn out sip of coffee. With no response, he winked and walked towards the table, stealing the remaining crusts of what had been Remus' breakfast. 

"Ghee, thanks, Fred. I was about to eat that, I'll have you know." Remus chuckled. 

"My apologies, Sir. You snooze, you lose."

"Well, I've heard that I should be saving myself for this grand dinner that you and George have planned, so I'll let you off." Remus leaned back in his chair. 

"Grand dinner?" Delilah repeated, running her hands through her locks absentmindedly. 

"Grand dinner," Fred nodded, "everyone's invited." 

"Well, I'll be sure to attend," Delilah nodded, mouth twisting at the corners. 

"Great. I mean, good. Yeah, good," Sirius muttered, looking back down at his drink. Remus, seemingly confused by the lack of confidence that Sirius now had, examined him. 

". . . anyways, George and I have to do ruddy cleaning all day - Dad won't let us off, he says Mum'll lose the few marbles she has left - so expect it late," Fred told the three of them.

"No worries - I should probably get on with some cleaning, too, and I need to speak to Tonks about fetching my stuff from Charlie's van."

Sirius' lips had just parted, presumably to question the van, before the sound of someone else interrupted. 

"Did I hear the word cleaning? I pray that I heard the word cleaning!" A shrill voice belonging to Molly Weasley echoed down the stairs. 

She appeared with a basket full of dirty clothes, and pushed past her son to get to the sink. 

"You did indeed, Molly. What are you tackling today?" Remus asked, trying to make conversation. Molly was visibly more stressed by the day, but thriving from it - the house was slowly but surely beginning to get tidier. 

Molly gave Sirius a dirty look, "the cobwebs are done, the floor is sweeped - today is top floor today. I'm getting the kids to deal with those wretched doxies, eventually - and you, Remus, might be able to assist me on dealing with the Boggarts." 

"Of course," Remus nodded curtly, "still need help moving the boxes on the top floor?" 

"Ah, yes, deary, that would be great. Fred, what are you going to be doing today, aside from popping up and down like a no-good weasle?" Molly barked at him. 

"Cleaning!" He said quickly, splashing the remaining coffee down the sink. 

Smiling to herself, Delilah left the kitchen and began walking up the stairs to find Tonks, who must of slept in as well. As she disappeared from the view of Remus and Sirius, she heard Remus asking him: 

"What has gotten into you?" 

"Nothing, Remus, honestly!" 

She decided not to invade their privacy, and continued on. 

The staircase from the first floor to the second floor was decorated, oddly, with shrunken house-elf heads, that were mounted to the wall with plaques displaying the name of each one. 

Already creeped out by the decor, the sound of a creaking step alarmed her, and she turned around to see Sirius a few steps below, his eyes shooting from her bum to her face, winking up at her as he did so. 

"Come on then, some of us have places to be," he grinned. Delilah rolled her eyes and continued her way up the stairs, shifting slightly as she reached the first floor, waiting for Sirius to walk past to go to the room he had been sleeping in. 

"Oh, no, I'm headed to the top floor. Moving boxes, as strong men do." 

" - right. You first." Delilah replied, feeling her cheeks begin to redden. 

"Ah, ladies first," He beckoned her to go first. After a brief pause between them, she finally gave in and sped up to move further away from him, rushing into Tonks' room and shutting the door behind her. 

"Holy smokes," Delilah sighed, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Hello?" Tonks asked, shifting in the wooden bed in the corner of the dark room. 

"Boy have I got news for you. I'll tell you when we go to get my stuff. Quick! Wake up!" Delilah shook Tonks out of her sleepy state. 

"This better be worth it, bitchface. Give me five minutes."

After Tonks had gotten ready, and the girls had informed Molly that they would be apparating to the Burrow, they set off: in order to apparate, they had to walk just out of the protective layer of spells cast over Grimmauld Place - it felt refreshing to be doing something. 

The Burrow was in the countryside of England, and the sun was set above them, the gentle breeze swaying the long grass that surrounded the house to and fro. 

Parked next to it was an abnormally large van, used to drive around all of Charlie's junk and dragon related items, such as food, tools, and training equipment. 

He had clearly left to go back to Romania in a hurry, because it was usually parked in the shed. 

"We should move that," Tonks said, as if reading Delilah's mind, "the Burrow is known to the Death Eaters, they might try and ransack it if they stumble upon it - and it's not fucking hard to miss!"

The van was unlocked, as usual - Charlie trusted his family deeply, and probably knew that Delilah still had her suitcase full of stuff in the back.

Not too long ago, Hermione had done a clever little charm on it to make the amount of items that could fit inside practically limitless, which meant that she had packed her entire apartment with her and wheeled it with her wherever she went. 

With the van safely parked in the shed, the girls sat on the ledge on the back whilst taking in the view. 

"Does. . . does Sirius ever call you 'doll'?" Delilah asked Tonks. The nickname had been playing on her mind since he had said it to her, and she had to find out whether she was overthinking it or not. 

Tonks screwed up her face, "he's my cousin, you do know that, right? Why do you ask?"

Delilah blushed. 

"You kissed him!" Tonks suddenly said, pushing Delilah away from her out of excitement. 

"What? I mean, yes! How can you tell? Oh lord, can you tell?" Delilah yelled, her palms clasped against her reddened cheeks. 

"Besides the smell of firewhisky and smoke? Your face! You little minx, you! How long have you known him for, two nights?" Tonks laughed. 

"Godric, I know. I couldn't help it, Tinkie! Is it bad?" She asked, feeling relieved to have confided in her best friend. 

Tonks shrugged, "of course not. You, of all people, deserve to be happy. He used to be a bit of a player, before his Azkaban days - he's definitely ready to settle down." 

"Settle down? You just said how I've known him for two nights!" 

" - you get what I mean. I would love to settle down with Remus. Wish he would snog me in the garden." 

"That's a big difference - you've known him way longer. How are things with you and Remus, by the way?"

Tonks looked away. 

"I told you about the werewolf thing, right?"

"Oh, Tonks, that doesn't matter at all. His whole 'I'm a broken man' thing is about the fact that he's a werewolf?" 

"Yep," Tonks sighed. 

"I say you pull him for a chat. Tell him that you've been seeing him for all this time and that its been working out. The rest of your life can't hurt, can it?" Delilah winked at her.

"S'pose not," Tonks grinned, smoothing out the fabric of her shirt. 

"So like. . . is he good?" Delilah continued, curiosity getting the best of her. Her question seemed to have lifted the mood, because Tonks tapped the side of her nose, meaning that she wouldn't tell. 

"Shag Sirius first, and then we can compare." Tonks replied casually, pushing herself off of the ledge, "we should get going, you can unpack, we can clean, and then we can eat." 

With her suitcase in one hand and wand in the other, Delilah apparated back to Grimmauld Place, quickly followed by Tonks. 

When they entered the house again, it was filled with action on every floor - the twins were in the kitchen whipping up "a feast like no other", the dining room was being prepared by Ginny and Hermione, the second floor was being re-swept by Molly.

Judging by the grunting sounds coming from the top floor, Sirius and Remus had busied themselves with shifting the boxes. 

Tonks exchanged a look with Delilah - a "we have to check this out" look. 

"Let me just get this put away," Delilah told her, as Tonks eagerly went upstairs. 

"Locomotor!" Delilah pointed her wand at the suitcase, which followed her up the stairs to Sirius' old room. 

Soon after, she found herself watching Sirius and Remus shifting the last of the boxs, from one room to another. 

"Why on earth do you have to do this again?" Tonks asked them. Sirius, who rubbed his back - it was clearly hurting him - did a mock salute.

"Captains orders," he said, "I'll need a spine replacement after this!" 

"You need to use magic, the entire time," Delilah commented, wondering why they were so determined to do it all by hand. 

"What we need is some energy. When on earth are those boys going to figure out how to use an oven?" Remus complained. 

"At least they cook," Tonks teased him, "I find it to be a very gentlemanly thing to do. Tonight will be great." 

Tonks was correct - and as Fred had stated that morning, the grand dinner was late. Crowded around the dining room table along with everyone else, Ron was eager to tuck in: 

"What is it, then?" Ron asked eagerly. 

"Today, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have prepared for you the finest of all cuisines: an all you can eat buffet. Fred, take it away!" George announced. 

Using his wand to reveal the plates of food that had been concealed in front of them, Delilah soon realised that the twins had gone crazy and prepared an American-style feast.

"Tonight, we feast on cholesterol- ridden foods. We hope you enjoy!" Fred concluded, taking a seat with his twin and looking pleased. 

Hermione, who had turned to look at Ron, was not surprised to see the barbecue sauce that was spread across his face, but turned away in disgust to thank the twins, and used her knife and fork to cut her pizza into neat triangles.

The girls were kept entertained by Tonks, who transformed her nose into the likes of various animals, whilst the boys all discussed the previous nights Quidditch game. 

Molly ushered them all into the living room so that she could do the dishes.

"You take a break, darling. I can do them." Arthur told her. 

The boys had fished out both muggle chess and wizarding chess - the latter, of which, Delilah spent the rest of the evening taking turns fiercely competing, and losing, against Ron. 

"Haha! Tough luck," Sirius reacted to her most recent loss. 

"I'd like to see you try, Sirius. All mouth and no trousers." Delilah grinned. 

"Oh, you can see me with no trousers on if you would like, doll." He offered, crouching down to begin the game of wizarding chess with Delilah. He took a swig from his flask and returned it to his pocket, looking at her as he did so. 

It did not take long before Delilah emerged victorious, and she did a little dance to celebrate. 

"Way to go, Delly! You show him whos boss!" Tonks laughed. 

The group all continued to play chess and eventually lounge around, drinking butter beer or pumpkin juice and engaging in random conversation until Molly decided that it was time for them all to go to bed. 

"Adults included!" She pointed at Lupin, who was curled up on one of the velvety sofas. 

He did as he was told and followed Tonks and Molly out of the room, leaving Sirius and Delilah alone. 

Packing up the game of chess, his arm brushed hers as they both went to pick up the same piece. 

"It was a great night," He told her, as he tossed the box into the corner of the room, "but now my back is positively killing me, and I have indigestion. Care to carry me up the stairs?" He joked. 

"I'm sure you'll live - if not, I'll get my little speech prepared." 

"Splendid," he chortled, "don't forget to mention the dashing looks and sense of humour." 

Yeah, she couldn't help but think, just two qualities of many that she wasn't able to forget.


	6. Chapter Six

THE DARK HALLWAY had almost concealed an object entirely, leading Delilah to just about dodge tripping on it. 

"Merlin's beard!" She gasped, clutching the doorframe as a dizzy feeling washed over her - then looked down, into the eyes of a house elf.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, jumping up from the sofa to see what had caught her attention. He lowered his gaze to the house elf and hissed, "Oh, its you. Kreacher, go to your room!" 

Feeling bad for the poor thing, who was clearly avoiding contact with the current residents of the house, Delilah tried to smooth things out. 

"What? No, its fine, I didn't see them. It's my fault," she insisted, "Sorry, Kreacher." 

"Don't be silly - he's always in the way."

"Sirius, don't be rude!" 

Almost shocked to see Delilah defending the house elf, Sirius' eyes clouded. 

"Kreacher, I said go to your room."

Kreacher did as he was told, reluctantly, leaving Sirius stood over Delilah, his shoulder resting against the doorframe opposite her.

"You've been off with me, these past few days," he noted, eyes still clouded - if they had been that way since the days that had passed the kiss, then he did a great job of hiding it. 

"We've got busy days ahead - I'm knackered, too."

"Right," he said stiffly, rubbing one hand over the scruff of his neck tiredly, "Goodnight, Delilah." 

"Goodnight, Sirius." Her reply echoed throughout the hallway as he shut the door. No kiss, no doll, and no flirty gazes - the way that most time spent in each other's company went most recently. 

It had only been three nights! Over the next few days, they began to bicker: on one occasion, over the fact that Sirius was cheating in order to beat Ron at chess, and on another, because she had overheard him telling Hermione not to be nice to Kreacher. 

"He is of the same opinion of my mother, Hermione! He doesn't deserve your respect." Sirius had told the young witch. 

Hermione, in her best effort, tried to lecture him on the oppression of house elves and how they deserved to be freed instead of enslaved, as well as paid for their work. In agreement with Hermione, Delilah stood up for her. 

"Kreacher knows no better, Sirius. Perhaps if someone had shown him a shred of decency and respect, he would understand!" Delilah scoffed. 

They finally came head to head in the kitchen the morning of the first Order meeting. 

"Alastor should be here soon." Tonks discussed with Delilah. 

During the short period of time that had passed, the girls had met with Alastor and agreed that The Order was of upmost importance, and therefore could be prioritised over the end of the Auror training programme. 

Delilah had also felt slightly giddy when he had told them both that they were great Aurors, and that they had done well in the training that they had completed so far. 

Sirius coughed, "He hasn't told you that you'll be going off to train again, has he? Surely not with an arm like that. In fact, we haven't checked it in a while - "

" - it's fine." 

"I really don't think it is. Look, its bleeding again, isn't it? You just need to - "  
" - I said its fine, Sirius! Jeez, I can deal with a scratch or two." 

He huffed, "It's more than a scratch."

"Scratch or not, I'm of some use to the Order, and as an Auror, unlike you!" 

"Why are you so bloody stubborn?" He hissed, attempting to grab her arm, but it was pulled out of reach. 

"I'm not being stubborn. I can get someone else to look at it later - someone who knows about dragon inflictions." 

The sound of the front door opening was enough to cause everyone to leap from where they had been stood and go to see who had arrived, which diffused the tension. 

"Bill!" Molly rushed over to embrace one of her eldest sons. His mop of ginger hair, sprinkling of freckles and infectious smile was enough to lighten the mood. 

"I missed you," He told her, his arms wrapped around her tightly, "Dad should be here soon. I've joined the order, by the way." 

"We know, we know. What's that you've got there?" She asked him, pulling away. 

"Oh, a letter for Delly," he extended his hand and gave it to her, "it's from Charlie. We shouldn't be sending letters, but he said that it was urgent."

"Thanks, Bill." Delilah gave him a quick hug and tucked the letter into the pocket of her jeans. 

"Anytime." He smiled. He resembled Charlie quite a bit, but was far taller and broader. "Moody should be - "

Before he could finish his sentence, Moody entered the house with an almighty thud, stealing all the attention. 

"First order of business - how do you know that I am who I say I am?" He asked Delilah, his magical eye pointed at her. 

"Er - because I trust you?" Her answer was laced with uncertainty. 

"Never trust anyone! From now on, we must question one another at the door. Bill could'a been a death eater and you would be none the wiser. Ask me something, go on!" His stern tone was enough to make Delilah blurt the first thing that she could think of: 

"What did you teach me during our first lesson?" 

"Easy. How to break a leg." 

Everyone watched Delilah to see if he had gotten the answer correct. 

"Yeah, it's Alastor." 

"Your turn, Molly. Constant vigilance!" He said gruffly. 

"Bill, what did I get you for Christmas on your fifth birthday?" Molly asked her child endearingly. 

"How the ruddy hell am I supposed to know that?" He asked her, sounding so much like Ron as he did so. 

"That's my Bill!" She laughed. 

With most of The Order assembled, they made their way down to the kitchen, which was tucked away from the listening ears of the Weasleys and Hermione, who had all begged to be let in on what was going on. Molly downright refused and had confined them to Fred, George and Rons room, telling them not to come down until she fetched them. 

It was midday, but the curtains had been closed and the only light was provided by the flickering candles mounted on one wall. 

Snapes arrival only added to the glum atmosphere, but they accommodated for him nonetheless, summoning a chair for him from the upstairs dining room. 

"Dumbledore apologises for his absence. He has asked me to deliver these letters for you all." Snape asseverated. 

"Well, go on, then." Moody told him. With a sneer, Snape threw the letters onto table, and each member in turn took the letter marked with their initials and opened it.

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚑,  
𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜- 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 

𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎 '𝙿𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚛' 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎. 𝚄𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚔𝚜- 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙰𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝. 

𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍. 

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢,   
𝙰𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚜 𝙳𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 

Having finished reading the letter, she turned to look at Sirius, who was sat next to her. His dark mop of hair tumbled past his now disappointed features - clearly his letter was the bearer of more bad news. 

"The Advanced Guard? You'll be going to get Harry but I won't be able to go?" Sirius asked Remus, who had snatched his letter from his grip and was scanning over it. 

"Do you want Harry removed safely or not? Come on, Sirius - listen, Remus and I will both go, and we can tell him how you really wished that you could be there." Tonks reassured him. 

Remus took his own letter back and rubbed Sirius' shoulder, "Dumbledore's choice, not mine. Besides, you can't risk being seen." 

"Might as well keel over and die, that'd be more useful then this load of wank that he's written to me." Sirius muttered. 

Only Delilah had heard him, because Moody had began discussing the tasks put forward by Dumbledore to the other members. 

Looking down at the silver lighter shaped device, Delilah realised that she had seen Dumbledore use it during her time at Hogwarts for dramatic effect. She rested it on her palm belonging to her bad hand. The ache was getting worse, and she could feel the heat from the blood inside the wound. Now she felt dizzy. Don't think about the wound, she told herself. 

Her determination to not draw attention to her worsening wound had made her lose track of time - soon enough, the meeting was over. Bill accompanied Delilah upstairs so that he could say goodbye to his siblings before he departed to Gringotts. 

"How is Fleur?" Delilah asked him politely, holding onto the bannister of the stairs for support as she followed him up. 

"She's. . . a dream. We normally have our lunch breaks together. Had to skip it to come here," he replied, "but don't mention it around Ginny - she hasn't quite taken a liking to her." 

"Note taken." Delilah replied. She knocked on the door to the boys' room, and Ginny swung open the door straight away. 

"Thank Merlin its you two! You'll tell us whats going on, won't you?" She asked them, clasping her hands together. 

"Er, no, we won't. I know it's goblin bollocks, but the rules aren't down to us. What have you lot been up to?" He asked, plonking himself down on the bed. The springs of the mattress deflated. Ron raked a hand through his hair. 

"Think Mum forgot that Fred and George can apparate. They snuck down a long time ago." Ron told them. Delilah and Bill exchanged looks. It wasn't surprising to hear that the kids all wanted to know what was being spoken about during the meetings, especially since they all missed Harry. 

Right on time, Fred and George apparated back, both looking defeated. 

"Nothing! We think that the meetings finished - ah, you're upstairs," George said, looking at Delilah, who was sat next to Ginny and plaiting her hair. 

"Yup. Don't worry - we won't snitch." She grinned. 

"But only this one time! On your best behaviour, kiddos. Anyways, I best be off. I'll see you all soon," Bill said, messing up Ginnys hair by rubbing the top of her head, and then falling on top of Ron, who scrambled to get Bill off. 

As Bill left the room, Tonks entered. 

"Wotchers, everyone," Tonks said. Delilah finished with Ginnys hair and then stood up. She pulled Delilah for a chat in her room, that was one floor up. Despite her dizziness only just wearing off, she followed her best friend anyway. 

"So, Sirius has a crush on you," she told her. 

"I don't think so, you saw the way it was this morning." She sighed. 

"It's sexual tension, babe. I've never seen him so over protective of someone before. You should talk to him before we leave for this observation mission with Moody tonight. I've told Remus to have a drink with him whilst we are gone, to see if you are both on the same page. You are very much welcome!" 

Delilah didn't want to cling onto something that could potentially not even be there, or to something that could fizzle out at any second. 

She had so much else on her mind, that adding yet another conflicting thing would end up overflowing it. 

But there was just something about him, that had her hooked. And so, she gave in, hoping desperately that she wouldn't make a fool out of herself for caring so soon. 

"I'll go and speak to him in a minute, then. How did your talk with Remus go?" Delilah asked her. Tonks' hair shifted to a warmer tone of purple, which she noticed immediately. 

"It was. . . progress." 

"Tinkie! You need to give me more info then that," Delilah egged her on. 

"He said - 'I'd love to see how things progress with you,'" Tonks mimicked his voice perfectly, "and then he said that he would make me a dinner like the twins did to prove how much of a gentleman he was. I think he took my comment to heart the other night," she grinned. 

"Speaking about taking comments to heart - I better go and speak to Sirius. Wish me luck!" Delilah whined, getting up to go and find him. 

"Luck! Luck, luck, luck, luck, luck." Tonks yelled after her. Shutting the door to Tonks' room, Delilah made her way to Sirius' room. 

"Merlin's right testicle," she cursed, feeling her heartbeat racing. She was about to knock when the door opened. 

He leaned against the doorframe in the same way that he had done the other night, and was clearly trying to brush off his bad mood. 

"Oops - hi. I was wondering if I could get a chance to speak to you before I go with Tonks and Moody?" She asked him.

"Speak away," he said. 

They both turned to see that Fred and George were craning their necks to listen in on the conversation - they must of anticipated that it was Order related. 

"Boys!" Delilah warned them. 

"By all means," Fred said, 

"Speak away." George grinned.

She was about to begin her apology when Moodys voice echoed up the staircase. 

"Tonks! Delilah! Lets go," Moody yelled. 

"Merlins left testicle," Delilah cursed. 

"I prefer to be called Sirius." Sirius said smoothly. Rolling her eyes, Delilah had no choice but to leave, pulling out her wand as she did so. 

Tonks had apparated her way down the stairs and therefore made it to the entrance before Delilah. 

"Right then, you two, no time to waste. I'll tell you what we are doing on the way. And remember - constant vigilance!" Moody boomed.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger/content warnings:  
> Bl*od, violence, dueling scene

UNBEKNOWNST TO THE muggles that swept the streets of Whitehall, London, below them were the ten floors of the Ministry of Magic Headquarters. 

The three Aurors, on the other hand, knew that it was there, and also knew that Cornelius Fudge was going to be leaving it soon. 

Half an hour ago, Delilah had no idea that this would be the location that she would be apparating to, in order to carry out the mission with Tonks and Moody. 

There had been a handful of times that Delilah had been to the Headquarters. Arthur was practically a father to Delilah, and whilst he had an army of children that he could of brought to bring your child to work! days, she had sat in his office for many of them, happy to watch him do something that he was passionate about. 

"The trick to enjoying a job, and being good at it, is to do the thing that excites you most, because you can still fail at a boring option." 

She kept Arthurs advice close to her heart, and when she returned to Hogwarts that same summer, she had told Charlie all about it during Quidditch practices. 

"What excites you most, Charlie?" She had asked him, as he kicked off of the ground and hovered above her. 

"The most beautiful and complex beasts of them all - dragons!" He had yelled, speeding away.

"Wait up!" She had yelled back, tailing him, the wind sweeping her hair back as she asked him, "dragons?" 

His devious grin wasn't hard to spot, even from a distance, "imagine this feeling, but on the back of a dragon. That, my friend, would excite me." 

Delilah closed her eyes and imagined it. He was right - it sounded magnificent. 

"I'm imagining it." She told him. 

"Good. One day, we can do all the things that excite us, together." 

The warm feeling that the happy memory gave her contrasted to the bitter evening. The sky above them was cloudy and grey, signalling the brink of a new season. The foreboding weather was enough to make the hairs on her good arm raise - the last time she had been here, things had been relatively normal. 

Her arm was now at its worse. She wished that she hadn't been so stubborn earlier and simply allowed Sirius to check it, and she wished that she had gotten the time to apologise to him. 

There was no time to fuss over it now.

This was the first mission, and the task at hand needed her undivided attention. Within the safety of bush, Alastor casted a cloaking spell, and debriefed the girls about what they had to do: 

"As you know, Cornelius Fudge believes that Dumbledore is after his job - a load of goblin piss, that is - so he's extra wary about concerns to do with how he governs and protects the community, both inside and outside of Hogwarts." 

"Well he's not doing a great job, is he? I say we march in there and - " Tonks raged. 

" - the very mention of Voldemort would be enough to set everyone off again, and Fudge knows it. We have reason to believe that he could potentially be conspiring against Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore - to shut them up. He could either be working with someone on the inside, or being unwillingly influenced by someone on the inside - " 

" - or just a dim-witted idiot," Tonks remarked. 

"That too. But focus on the other two scenarios for now." Moody said gruffly. 

"Conspiring or being influenced by someone. . . like a death eater?" Delilah asked, putting two and two together.

Moody nodded. 

Political instability was the breeding ground that Voldemort needed in order to rise to power again. He fed on fear, and created it by manipulating people. 

If what Dumbledore theorised was true, it meant that someone from Voldemorts army was fueling Fudges desire to hold onto power by working with him to kill Harry before Harry could kill the Dark Lord.

Letting the information sink in, Delilah listened as Alastor gave them the orders: 

1\. Stick to your post.   
2\. Look for Fudge.   
3\. Don't be seen.   
4\. Get back safely. 

"It's getting dark. Ready to rumble?" Moody asked the Aurors. 

"Ready to rumble." Tonks affirmed.

They all brought their wands together, an Auror tradition that was a symbol of good luck. 

Delilah had only ever watched the proper Aurors do this before. The sides of her mouth tugged upwards when she thought about the fact that she was technically a proper Auror now. The only sound was that of the different woods tapping together, and then:

"Off you go." 

She made her way to her post, being careful to not be seen. She had been situated at the back alleyway that led to the Whitehall toilets - the entrance and exit to the Ministry that was used by all of the Ministry employees. 

Moody was using the benefit of his magic eye to watch those who used the toilets to enter and exit the building, whilst Tonks' post was the West end of the street. She would be able to spot those that left undetected. 

Crouched in the only patch of darkness that she could find, Delilah waited as the minutes went by. The dizziness returned. Her arm was hurting. 

Stick to your post. 

She stuck to her post. A few more minutes went by. 

Look for Fudge. 

She looked for Fudge. A few more minutes went by. 

Don't be seen. 

And then it happened. A noise - but not from the direction that Fudge was supposed to be leaving. Concealed by her hiding spot, Delilah watched as the large bins that were a few yards away behind her rattled. And rattled. And rattled. 

The lid to the bin was covered with a Ministry emblem, that was soon out of sight as the lid began to hover. Delilah watched as Cornelius Fudge stepped out of the fake bin, which was clearly used as an alternative exit by Ministry Officials, because he was met by a singular cloaked figure: 

"You're here." The thickness of Fudges prim-and-proper accent caught her attention immediately. Uncomfortably shorter than the cloaked figure, Delilah noticed as Fudges demeanor changed. He was adjusting his suit, clearing his throat, and shifting from foot to foot. 

Delilah watched as the cloaked figure handed Fudge a note of some sort. He read it quickly, scrunched it up, and shoved it down into his blazer pocket.

"I see. And when do you believe they will retrieve the boy?" He asked the other. 

"Before he returns back to school. Whether or not Albus will go to retrieve the boy, I cannot say." 

"You know what I ask of you now, Lucius." Fudge whispered. Delilah's eyes widened. She recognised the name. The cloaked figure nodded and turned away, apparating into thin air. Fudge was now alone, but so was she. And he was walking in her direction. 

The lamps flickered on again. No longer concealed by the darkness, he was bound to spot her any minute now. 

Don't be seen. 

Alastors strict rules echoed in her head. Thinking on her feet, Delilah grabbed the Deluminator from her jean pocket, flicked the lid open, and pressed the small button at the top. 

With each click, the light from a lamp post rushed towards the silver device with a zip sound, but this did not go unnoticed by Fudge, who drew his wand in horror as he realised that he was now in darkness, and that someone else was there. 

"Who's there? Reveal yourself!" He cried. 

Clutching the Deluminator, she was about to draw her wand to protect herself, but suddenly - 

"Expelliarmus!" 

Her wand went flying from her pocket. The sparks that her wand elicited as it flew past her face and into the distance was enough for Fudge to recognise the young Auror. 

"Brackium - sectumsempra!" He yelled again. 

Delilah felt a pain like no other in her bad arm, and when she looked down, she realised that the two different spells had caused her arm to not only break, but leave her bleeding out. 

The blood was a deep purple, like the wax seals on the Hogwarts acceptance letters. The unusual colour looked like anything but what would come from a recovering dragon infliction. The pool of blood on the ground would be enough to make her feel dizzy, had she not of been dizzy during the past few days anyways. 

She fell to the floor in agony, watching as Fudge apparated away. 

Get back safely. 

Face pressed against the cool concrete ground, she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness, thinking about her parents as she did so. Was this what it felt like to die? Cold, alone, scared, helpless? 

She didn't want to feel this way. She needed a distraction from the pain. In the sparing moments that she was awake, Delilah flicked through the photo album of her mind - all of her happiest memories. 

The moment that she had sat on the stall in the Great Hall, being placed in Gryffindor. The very same house as her parents, who never lived to hear the tale. 

She felt the pool of blood surround her. 

Quidditch practice with Tonks, soggy shoes, and soaring past the turrets of the castle on her broom during races with Charlie. 

Shuddering now, the only thing that was keeping her warm was the blood that seeped into her clothes. 

The warmth of a chunky knitted sweater made by Molly, that felt like an endless hug and smelt of pinecones and chocolate frogs. 

It was seeping into her hair. 

Watching Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione grow up, and missing Harry as they as they all played chess together, secretly feeling happy to watch Ron beam when he won against her. 

She shut her eyes again. It was thundering in the distance. 

Making Arthur and Alastor proud. She was an Auror now! She was doing something that excited her. . . 

She gave in to her emotions and began to cry. The weather, gloomier than ever, also gave in: it began to rain. The droplets fell on her from high above, mixing with the tear that fell across her cheek. 

The Order.

Delilah was not aware of how long she was there for, but eventually, she heard the sound of Moodys voice as he ran towards her, 

"Ferula," he cast the bandage charm on her arm, although this did little to change the harm already done, "Look at me, look at me! We're going to take you back, I won't let anything happen to you." 

She didn't want to see the disappointment in the his face. He had taken her on the mission and given her four simple rules, two of which she had broken. 

"My wand is gone. . ." Is all she could muster. 

"I'll get it, Alastor. . . Accio wand!" The familiarity of her best friends voice was enough to make Delilah open her eyes. 

"It's here, Delly," Tonks pressed a shakey hand to her face, "Alastor, there's too much blood. . ." 

Their voices faded into nothingness again.

Creaking staircases, a screaming portrait, and the worried arguing of Order members greeted Delilah as soon as she awoke again. 

The warmth of a blanket felt like a blessing, even if it was stained purple by the blood. She was resting in the entryway of Grimmauld Place, and the rest of the hallway was crowded by the other Order members, all talking at once. 

Delilah tried to figure out what was being said. 

"Moony, you get that side, I'll get this side!" Sirius' voice could be heard in the background. Clearly the hideous portrait of Mrs Black had picked up on the presence of Hermione, who had rushed down the stairs to try and assist somehow. 

"Get back upstairs, you lot, its not something young folk should see!" Molly barked tearily. 

Delilah heard the thudding of footsteps, one after another, the children all obeying, the severity of the situation was clear. 

Soon after, the shrieking stopped. 

"She's awake!" Tonks yelped, having just noticed that her eyes were fluttering around, observing everyone's reactions. 

"Delilah!" Sirius rushed over to her, his hand running through her wet hair, "stay awake, doll. Don't you dare close your eyes again," his grey eyes looked down into her own. 

Doll. 

The thoughts of what she needed to say and do were all firing off at once in her head. The members that were crowded around her warned her to lie down again, but they needn't bother, because she didn't want to waste anymore time. 

She needed to read the letter from Charlie.

He had said that it was urgent, and she should've listened. 

Using her good arm, that was now equally as weak, she took the letter from her pocket. It was stained and soaked, but she could just about make out his handwriting: 

ᵈᵉˡˡʸ,  
ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵘʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ. ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁿᶜᵗᵘᵃʳʸ. ⁱᵗˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʳᵃʳᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ. ʰᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ, ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ⁱⁿʲᵉᶜᵗ ᵛᵉⁿᵉᵐᵒᵘˢ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. 

ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ, ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᶠᵉʷ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʸᵐᵖᵗᵒᵐˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒʳ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ, ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ, ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿ ᵃᶜʰᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ. 

ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗ ᵐᵘⁿᵍᵒˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵗⁱᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ. ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵇⁱˡˡ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ. 

ʸᵒᵘʳˢ,   
ᶜʰᵃʳˡⁱᵉ ʷᵉᵃˢˡᵉʸ 

The hallway was caliginous, and the shadow belonging to that of Remus Lupin fell over her as he blocked out the candle light whilst scrambling through his medical kit beside her, trying to find anything that would be of use. She shoved the letter in his direction, and he read over it quickly, before running a hand through his speckled grey hair, something that he only did when he was stressed. 

"Merlin. She needs to get to St Mungos, right now - " He began. 

" - She can't go yet, we need to wait for Dumbledore - " Alastor reasoned with him. Delilah had to crane her neck to look at the famous Auror, whos clothing was stained with blood. Her blood. 

" - she'll die if we wait too long! The dragons bite was poisonous, and thanks to whoever did this to her, she has internal bleeding!" Remus said urgently. 

" - I'll take her! I can take her," Sirius chimed in, shooting up from where he had been kneeling. 

"Don't be stupid! You can't leave the house, none of us can. Not until Dumbledore gets here!" Moody said through gritted teeth. 

"Are you out of your mind? Did you not hear what Remus just said?" Sirius' voice grew louder. 

"Are you challenging me, boy? She's like a daughter to me. I would never do her harm. If we take her now, I guarantee you that the person that attacked her will be waiting to take her to the ruddy morgue. We. Wait. For. Dumbledore." 

Sirius backed down, his hurt getting the best of him. He was asking Delilah if she was okay, and reassuring her that Dumbledore would be there soon. 

A minute went by with an icy silence before the door opened and Dumbledore entered. 

"She needs to go - " Sirius began.

" - to St Mungos." Dumbledore nodded, wasting no time with pleasantries. "Arthur, will you come with us?" He asked calmly. 

Arthur was pale faced and trying to comfort his significant other, his mouth gaping open before quickly responding. 

"Of course."

"Tonks, go upstairs and collect some of her things," Dumbledore instructed, and Tonks apparated away, "Everyone else must remain here until we return. No acceptions." 

Everyone murmured in reluctant agreement. 

"Remus, Remus!" Delilah coughed. 

"Yes? What is it?" He asked, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. 

"The meal - its tonight." 

"Yeah. . . yeah, its tonight." 

"Her favourite food is beans on toast, but you have to put the cheese on before the beans, and you have to cut the toast vertically, not horizontally," she told him, referring to the meal that Remus had promised to cook Tonks, "And butterbeer. With lots of froth on the top, but not spilling over the sides. She hates it when it spills over the sides." 

She felt herself being lifted up by Arthur, her head resting on his chest, drifting away yet again.


	8. Chapter Eight

A BADGERING VOICE might not be enough to wake her, but the pungent smell of thick bleach and rubber gloves certainly were. 

Everything was sterile and bright - the Healer, dressed in a lime green smock whilst shining a torch in her face, and Dumbledore, who stood out in periwinkle robes that reflected beams of silvery sunlight. 

"Hello Miss Delacroix, can you hear me? You're in the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites - can you look into the light for me?"

Piss off, she felt like muttering - being poked and prodded merely moments after waking up wasn't something she was keen on. 

"Here, Arthur. . ." Dumbledore said to the wizard stood next to him, looking ever so pale. 

Dumbledore removed a single glove from the box that was resting on the bedside table next to Delilah, and inflated it with a huff or two. Tying up the end, he wiggled the glove in front of Arthur, who looked bewildered but accepted it, "Inflatable chickens make me feel better." 

"Thank you." Arthur replied stiffly, placing the glove back on the table, looking around the room with great curiosity. 

"You sure do know how to ruffle up some feathers, don't you?" He said gently - Delilah grimaced. 

"I feel awful, Sir."

"Well, I would assume so, considering the injuries that you have sustained. I'm sure that Healer Pye would agree." 

"No, I don't care about me. . . I feel awful about ruining the mission. I used the Deluminator - " 

" - I noticed." He pointed a long finger to the Deluminator, that was sat amongst the other peculiar items on the bedside table, "be that as it may, you still completed the mission. I believe that you must have some valuable information for me?" 

She nodded, happy to finally feel of use again, having been knocked out cold for what must of been hours by now. 

Healer Pye, frustrated to have been ignored, announced that he would be back soon to administer more treatment with the watchful eye of Healer Smethwyck, who was the Healer-in-Charge. 

"He left through a secret exit, and was met by Lucius Malfoy - although Lucius was wearing a cloak to hide himself. Lucius handed him a note of some kind - and then they spoke about the plans to retrieve a boy." 

"Harry," Arthur whispered. She nodded gravely, knowing that the assumption that it was Harry was most definitely right. 

"Fudge wanted Lucius to find out when, then, when Lucius couldn't tell him, Fudge said 'you know what to do'. I don't know what that means, though."

Dumbledore took some time to think to himself, twiddling the thumb of the rubber glove chicken that he had made. 

"Interesting, interesting indeed. And the injuries?" He queried. 

"He was walking in my direction, and the lights kept on flickering on and off, so I had to get rid of them. He knew that someone was there as soon as I used the deluminator - wait. He must of thought it was you!" 

Delilah was still piecing together information as she recounted the story that she had, thankfully, lived to tell. Fudge must of instantly been concerned because the Deluminator was an object that belonged to that of Albus Dumbledore. 

"Your theory is logical, but we will have time to ponder over this once I have your full statement, Miss Delacroix. Do continue." 

"He. . . he disarmed me, and when he did, he recognised my face. I could see it in his eyes. As soon as he knew it was me, he used two different spells, but somehow had combined them together." 

"Impossible," Mr Weasley breathed, "What were the spells?" 

"One was Brackium, and the other was. . . Sectumsempra," the young witch recalled. 

Dumbledore placed the rubber chicken on the table once more and stood, a look of urgency and recognition etched upon his face. 

"I see. Well, I must commend you for your hard work, skillful eye, and outstanding memory. Today has not been very kind to you, and I must now place you in the safe hands of the Healers before you return to the Headquarters." 

"Thank you, Sir." Delilah replied, not knowing how else to. 

"Before I depart, however, I must ask two things of you. One, that I take the memory for the pensieve that resides within my office. Secondly, that you remember to stick to the cover story that Arthur was the one that found you and brought you to the hospital, and that you had no idea who harmed you in the alleyway. Can you do that for me?" He peered down at her through his half-moon spectacles, that glistened under the one harsh light that shon down on the three of them. 

"Yes, of course, of course. Take it." She agreed. 

Placing his wand to her temple, he extracted the memory, which took the form of a silvery strand, and then stored it in a rubber glove. 

"I ran out of spare glasses," he admitted sheepishly, stashing the glove in the pocket of his robe, which made her smile. He continued:   
"Do not fret, there will be plenty of tasks to complete for the Order once you have recovered. With Sirius Black, for example."

His eyes were twinkling as they usually did, swimming with secrets and mystery, and she could've sworn that the name drop was swiftly followed by a wink. 

Arthur accompanied Dumbledore to bid him farewell, and probably discuss a few matters in private. 

Finally catching Delilah on her own, the Healers set to work on her arm. The area had already been cleaned, and apparently drained, because it looked awfully grey. 

Healer Smethwyck explained that had she not of arrived sooner, the administration of the antivenom would've been too late. 

"You are lucky to have an arm left - and a life." The Healer warned sternly, whilst wrapping the arm in a tight bandage, and then a sling. 

The treatments that followed were not as kind - she was made to swallow a variety of potions, all laced with nauseating ingredients. One to refill her blood, one to rid the body of the shock produced from a spell, and one to quicken the healing process of the arm. 

"I'll be back in later to check up on you and make sure we don't overfill you with blood. Please do not disturb the other patients, and if you are going to be sick, please do so in this bin." The Healer told her, tucking her in to the bed. 

"Peace and quiet." Arthur smiled, as the two of them were finally left to get some rest. 

"Sorry, Arthur, I know that you would rather be anywhere but here. The twins were telling me the other day about Percy. I'm sure Molly is worried sick." Delilah said sympathetically. 

"That would be a nice way to put it. At first she was worried, but now she's angry. I don't see how we went wrong with Percy. His views are so out of line with the rest of us, you know?" He asked her, leaning back in the chair. 

Having known the Weasley family for quite some time, she did in fact know them all very well. 

Percy, oddly, had always been rather stuck up, but deep down he was kind, and he cared about achievement. 

His views of the Ministry were seen through rose-tinted glasses. The family had all watched as he had slowly morphed into a parrot of the Minstry ideology, and he was blindsided through doing so. 

"He'll come around." Delilah reassured him, although she wasn't certain. 

". . . Fred and George keep on telling me that their real names are Fredrickson and Georgington, so perhaps Percy isn't the weirdest of the bunch," Arthur grinned. 

They both laughed, which caused a patient from across the room to begin to splutter as they stirred in their sleep. 

Attempting to be quieter, the topic of children gradually shifted to focus on Ron and Ginny: 

"I heard him calling out for Hermione when he was sleeping on the sofa the other day. He turns red as a beetroot when Molly and I tease him about it. He forced us to tell Hermione that we picked her up early for some reason or other - but he had actually begged us to because he missed her. . ."

". . . and Ginny. . . Ginnys' just like her mother. I would hate for anything to happen to her." His smile dropped a little. 

"Bill and Charlie wouldn't let that happen." Delilah reminded him. 

"I know. Speaking of - I'm sure Charles - Charlie - is worried sick about you. If you would like, we can write a letter to him and I can get Bill to send it off tomorrow?" Arthur suggested. 

The Gringotts security measures were so strict that all lines were secure, which meant that he could receive and send post for the Order without having to worry about it being intercepted. 

"Good idea." Delilah realised that she still needed to thank him for his efforts, and ask him how he was doing since she had last seen him. 

She scribbed down a note for Charlie on the back of the Daily Prophet, of which Arthur had leant her, as well as a pen. 

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ,

ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴜs ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ? 

ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ. ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ғᴏʀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴs; ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜʏ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴍ ᴀɴ ᴀᴜʀᴏʀ, ɪᴛs ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴍ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ. ɪᴛs ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴀs ɪғ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴇᴇʟs ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛɪɴɢ. 

ɪ ᴄᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ғᴏʀ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴅᴇᴇᴍ ᴍᴇ ɪɴsᴀɴᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪs. ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ, ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪᴍ ᴄᴀʀʀʏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ. ᴍʏ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs. 

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴋ. ʜᴏᴡ ɪs ʀᴏᴍᴀɴɪᴀ? ᴅᴏᴇs ɪᴛ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ? 

ʏᴏᴜʀs,   
ᴅᴇʟʟʏ

She folded the letter and handed it to Arthur, who promised that it would get sent off as soon as he could return to work again. 

"Dumbledore failed to mention it, but I thought that you should know. The Advanced Guard are going to get Harry tonight." He told her. 

"T - tonight?" Delilah shot up. 

"I'm sure that it will be fine. The plan, from my understanding, was to - "

" - Tea and biscuits, tea and biscuits?" The trolley lady disrupted their hushed conversation. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, and the very mention of a sugary snack was enough to distract both her and Arthur. 

Soon after, Arthur fell asleep. Delilah, not so much. 

She was worried that Fudge would creep back in, through the darkness, and finish what he had started. That he would walk past the open door, and his beady eyes would recognise her again. 

And even if he wasn't here, he was somewhere out there. 

Watching, waiting, plotting. 

So was Voldemort. 

And so was Harry. 

Now, more than ever, she could step into Harry's shoes and truely understand what it was like - she had survived the attack for now, but so long as Fudge was still around, the threat was, too. They were trapped in a neverending cycle. 

She wondered who would be the one to break it.


	9. Chapter Nine

AFTER BEING DISCHARGED early in the morning, Delilah returned to the comfort of Grimmauld Place. 

The Order was now up and running like clockwork - its members turning in and out of Grimmauld Place before heading off to their respective tasks. 

Delilah was rather disgruntled with the news that she had to stay put at the house - which felt more like a cage, or some sort of magnifying glass, each antique frame or light fixture digging its eyes into the back of her neck like thorns in a thickened blackberry bush. 

She deplucked herself, something she was becoming accustomed to, hostile mood fading as Harry was thrown into the gaggle of Weasleys, who could be found tucked behind any corner or corridor. 

A quiet spot tucked away in Sirius' old room was used to fill Harry in on all that had been sprung on her since they had both been at the Burrow last Christmas. 

Forests dotted with evergreen trees, sparkly pixies and talking toadstalls, triple rainbows that bounced off of spraying waterfalls - and dragons, lots of them. 

"How many dragons are actually at the sanctuary, then? And surely they aren't all bigger then the ones that I've seen?" He queried. 

"Too many dragons to count, and some the same size as this house. I thought Hagrid was big up until then." She grinned. 

She recounted how they had gone camping out in the woods for weeks at a time, singing around the crackling campfires, dancing until the sun rose again. 

Then, when summer began, Charlie brought her back to the Burrow, where they had plotted the rescue of the baby dragon that was being held in captivity at the time. 

It was then that she had been recruited by Dumbledore, which was what Harry was most interested in. 

"I know what you really want to ask me, though - about the Order. I don't think it's fair that you've been kept in the dark. I can see why you would be upset." She said gently. 

They looked at each other briefly, and then up at the ceiling, which was littered with dark spots hit by faulty spells and torn up posters from bands long forgotten in time. 

"Who was it? Was it a death eater?" Harry finally said, referring to her arm. 

"It was Cornelius Fudge. There was a death eater there, too, but they were only there to pass on some sort of message." 

"That sounds. . . scary. You've been inside the Ministry before - did he recognise you?" 

"A hundred percent. Thats why he hit me with those spells, I'm certain of it." Delilah replied, voice laced with bubbling anger. 

"What spells?" Harry asked. 

"Sectumsempra, and brackium. Arthur and Dumbledore still have no clue how he would've combined them. And we've never heard of the sectumsempra spell before." 

"Me neither - but did you just say Dumbledore was there?" Harry sat upright now, the anger boiling up inside of him too, "why didn't he stop to see me?" 

"I - I - I don't know," Delilah tried to think of a way to reassure him, and settled on, "Dumbledore is a busy man, Harry. His actions have logic and reasoning behind them. If he didn't stop to see you, it wouldn't just be because he didn't care." 

"That's easy for you to say, but put yourself in my shoes. I haven't heard from anyone all summer. Nothing! And now I come back only to find that I'm not actually needed - everyone's lives have gone on perfectly fine without me." He huffed. 

"Harry, that's not true! I came back, didn't I, and I've seen it all with my very own eyes. Hermione, Ron, Ginny. They've all missed you like mad. We are all here to protect you, Harry. That's all any of us are trying to do. Protect you." 

"Funny, isn't it? All I'm trying to do is protect everyone else." He huffed. 

They spent some time in silence, not thinking anything in particular, apart from about wanting to make their parents proud. She didn't say it to him, and he didn't say it to her, but they both seemed to know how the other was thinking. 

"You have to go after Fudge." He eventually said, breaking the silence. Delilah looked at the scar on his forehead, peaking through messy black tufts of hair, and then back down at him. 

"Is that what you would do?" She asked him. He nodded, and then stood up. They had been sat in those positions for quite some time, and left Sirius' room to stretch their legs for a bit. 

Hating to see them moping around, Molly busied them with cleaning, and finally got around to removing the Doxies with the helping hands of all the kids. Cleaning Doxie droppings was a task that Delilah, understandably, chose to opt out of. 

Morning turned into evening, and everyone had retired to their rooms.   
No longer feeling tired, Delilah wandered the halls, stumbling upon a balcony that overlooked the back garden. Sirius, with one hand clasped to a medley of strong alcohol and another dangling a cigarette, was looking out over it:

"To the left a little more. No, not that left - the other left. OK, now it's too far left. Back the other way, Moony!" He was calling out. 

"What on earth are you two doing?" She asked, standing next to him to see what was going on. 

A few floors below them, Remus was adjusting a table for two. Almost knocking over the lit candles, he huffed at the overcomplicated instructions and left the table where it was - to the left of the garden, and rather askew. 

The wind picked up the rose petals that had been scattered on it, pushing them into the grass instead. 

"He went with Tonks and the rest of the Advanced Guard to get Harry yesterday, so tonight he's making the dinner," he took a drag of his cigarette and then put it out in the drink, leaving it on a rusty garden chair along with a few other older drinks that were now collecting rainwater. 

"Shit - the toast is burning!" Remus called out, rushing up the garden and raking a hand through his hair as he did so. 

"Mm, burnt toast. How romantic," Sirius called back. 

Now she had him alone, it was her chance to apologise to him. The cool air of the evening enveloped them both. They were stood close together now. 

"Sirius, I've been meaning to talk to you. I made a comment about you not being useful to the Order, but now I realise how wrong I was - you've given the entirety of the Order a place to stay, a place to call home - something that you never really got to have," she felt warm and fuzzy reflecting on the past week that she had been there. 

"It's the least that I could've done - " he tried to dismiss the compliment, but Delilah interjected:

" - it was the most you could've done. We all have our different ways of coping with our struggles. Whilst I think that you can sometimes be rude - don't give me that look - I know that you don't mean any harm. For that, Sirius Black, I apologise." 

"You were under the influence of dragon venom, so I'll let you off this time, doll," he smiled, "all jokes aside, I should apologise, shouldn't I? You want justice for your parents, and I shouldn't let my jealousy override that. Just. . . be safe, next time, okay?"

It was clear to her now that his anger, his upset or his confidence all came out of a place of jealously. 

The sun was setting in the distance, the pink glaze melting to a soothing orange and coating the apple trees that were dotted around the very edge of the garden. 

When it rose again in the morning, and the mornings after that, Sirius was in a much chipper mood, even taking up baking apple pies (dousing it in firewhisky, nevertheless), and Delilah found herself swooning each time he pursued past her on a staircase. 

Nights with Remus, Tonks and Sirius sat side by side became frequent: snacking on whatever was successfully raided from the cupboards, and blaming it on the twins the next day. 

"Tonks and I aren't in the mood for a sleepover today," Remus yawned, stretching his limbs out like some great big grizzly bear, "I'm heading to bed, but I'll see you in the morning." 

"No worries," Delilah smiled, "night!" 

She was about to head off to bed herself when Sirius came out of his room and gave her a pointed look. 

"Er - what?" She laughed nervously, arms folded. 

". . . sleepover for two, instead?"


	10. Chapter Ten

RUFFLED SHEETS STAINED vivid orange from firewhisky did not make her heart flutter as she rubbed the sore, taut skin of her arm - it was the figure in the bed next to her, already up and dressed.

"Want any grub?" Sirius offered, eyebrows raised, as he spun his wand around expertly. 

"Grub?" Delilah asked, scrunching up her nose as she rested her head against a sunken pillow. 

He nods, walking around the bed, "yeah, grub. Y'know, food?" 

"Right," she sighs softly, "the post, please." 

He chuckles, pointing his wand at the sheets to clean them whilst retorting, "won't be nice to digest, but if you insist - " 

"Funny," she responds dryly, "the post, to read, and a glass of orange juice, please?" 

"Two ticks of a timeturner," he nods, rushing out of the room as though he's testing himself on the promise. 

Delilah takes the opportunity to get ready - wondering what's taking him so long, until she hears approaching footsteps - thud, thud, thud. 

"Hey-" she said as the door swung open and then shut again. 

With his hair tied up in a bun, she could see that he was hiding something, surpressing emotion that would've otherwise been worn clearly - yet with the lack of t-shirt or dressing gown, she could see his chest puffing up and down. 

"Hey yourself. So - if you don't mind me asking - what happened in Romania?" He asked. 

She felt her cheeks glow red. Why was he asking about Romania? Why would he even be angry about Romania? Her lack of response caused him to extend the letter out towards her. She plucked it out of his hand and read it: 

ᵈᵉˡˡʸ,   
ʰᵃʰᵃ, ⁱᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢ, ⁱ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ⁱᵗ. ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ. 

ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿˢᵃⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ. ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵈᵍᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿˡʸ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᵍʳⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵒˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ, ᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗˢ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ.

ᵐⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵃᵈ,   
ᶜʰᵃʳˡⁱᵉ 

She took a deep breath. She could remember exactly what she had written to Charlie last time. Without context, this looked bad, but to her, it was a normal response. 

"You don't understand, it's not what it looks like, what he means is that - " she began,  
"At least look at me when you speak to me," he said, voice hung in a low growl. 

"Not that it's any of your business," Delilah huffed, "but we never did anything, Sirius. Was it open before you read it?" 

Her back was pressed against the wall, and Sirius walked over to lessen the gap between them: 

"Are you accusing me of opening it?" He asked, brows pinching together.

Delilah scoffed, "letters don't open themselves, doll." 

His jaw pushed outwards, "a doxie opened it, if you must know, but I - " 

" - you still read it, you freak - "

"Oi!" He said breathily, "you can't just - fuck, you're so - "

She hadn't even cut him off, or argued, but he stopped himself as they both looked downwards, at his fingers that had just brushed against her inner thigh - and he had left them there, tracing against the fabric of her jeans. 

"Tell me, how big was he?" He now asked, travelling up further and further, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin. 

"We didn't do anything," She said through gritted teeth, her hand reaching out to grab his arm - he pulled away on instinct, clearly thinking that she didn't want to. 

Yet the palm of her hand edged upwards, and she finally took the leap - reaching up to his hair and pushing his head along with it, her lips catching his in a deep, fiery kiss. 

" - you're so beautiful," he finished, blinking a few times as her body melted into his, away from the wall and onto the bed. 

His hands were rough and teasingly slow, smoothing over each edge of her body, the rolls before the curves, the dimples of her back before the ass, and he whispered into her ear, "As good as this? As me?"

She furiously shook her head no, his breath now down her neck, his hands settling on the any button they could find that was in his way. 

"Are you sure?" He asks, and she kisses him again, along the stubble of his jawline. 

"Entirely," she mumbles, making him squirm as her breath travels across his jaw. 

"Show me, doll," he demanded, now letting his anger become visible.

Doll. 

She tried to pull herself together. The absence of his touch drove her crazy, enough to place a hand on his chest and push him down into the bed. He chuckled slightly as she climbed above him, her fingers resting on the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. 

Delilah took his hand and licked the tips of his fingers before taking as much of them into her mouth as she could. As she did so, he grew hard against her, but she didn't give in. 

"Dirty girl," he breathed, as she let go and rocked against him. He in turn pulled her down towards his lips and kissed her. 

"See?" Delilah queried, "we didn't do this." 

She pulled his waistband down. 

"We didn't do this. . ." she stroked his member through his boxers. 

His hands on her waist, she peeled his boxers away, "we most certainly did not do this." 

"I would hope not," he panted, as he twisted around in the bed playfully until he was now on top of her, "when will you be seeing him again?" 

"What do you mean?" She asked between heated kisses. 

"When is he coming back? Do you know?" 

"Probably for his birthday. Twelfth of December," she said. 

"Interesting, interesting. Now then. . . where was I?" He raised an eyebrow and pushed himself into her, this time initiating more of a response then his wand did, because she clutched the sheets and his locks as he did so. 

His pace quickened as she stifled her moans due to the lack of a silencing charm - he was too preoccupied to think about what others were thinking, wrapping a hand around her neck and tightening it. 

The wetness on his thighs only turned him on more, and it wasn't long before he couldn't hold back any longer - it had, after all, been a long time. Delilah watched as he grunted and pulled out of her, and then flopped beside her on the bed with a massive grin etched upon his face. 

"Better now?" She asked, rubbing her neck. 

The sheets rustled as he pulled his boxers and pyjamas back on - a dark tartan set that he usually paired with the matching top, although this was disregarded with a pile of dirty washing that had been shoved in the corner of the room. 

She stood up to clean it for him: it had become a little habit of hers, running around the house to declutter things before Molly happened upon them. When Delilah turned around again, Sirius was taking a drag of a freshly lit cigarette and staring at her bottom half, which she quickly realised was still partially undressed. 

She found her own pants and jogging bottoms, jumping into them before sighing as the strong smell reached her from across the room. 

"I really wish you wouldn't do that. It's not good for your health." She tucked her hair behind her ears. 

"You aren't good for my health," he mused. The cigarette dangled between his middle finger and pointer finger, that looked slightly sticky. Oops, Delilah thought. Sirius added, "and besides, after the stress that you put me through this morning, I think I deserve a little treat, doll." 

Doll. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to calm herself, responding with, "it's not my fault that you decided to read that letter. What my friends and I talk about doesn't concern you," she said firmly. 

"Is that so?" He said sheepishly, "do you have something to hide?" 

Before she could answer, they were being called down for breakfast by Ron, whos tone was rather reluctant. 

Without saying another word, the duo made their way down to the kitchen, which was swarming with those who had stayed the night previous - Tonks, Remus, Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione. 

"Ah, morning you two," Molly chirped, handing them both mugs of freshly squeezed orange juice. The kitchen smelt of burnt toast and spilt butter beer, which Remus was still apologising profusely for - sat across from the girls, listening to Ron reassuring him that burnt toast still tasted nice. 

"That's because you eat anything, Ronald. I swear! Anything!" Arthur said animatedly. He picked up his briefcase and declared that he was off to work. 

"See you later, Arthur!" Delilah said to him.

"See you later, Delly - oh, before I go, did you get the letter from Charlie?" Arthur asked. 

Delilah couldn't help but look at Sirius, who, like Tonks, smiled into his mug.   
" - Yes, I did. Thank you," she replied. 

Molly kissed Arthur goodbye, and whilst everyone was distracted with eating or talking, Delilah watched as Sirius leant back in his chair, and with great confidence, winked at her so discretely that she almost didn't notice it. Taken by surprise, Delilah began to splutter. 

"Oops, you alright?" A concerned Tonks patted her best friend on the back.   
"No! We need to go upstairs for a chat." Delilah told her through each cough.   
"Huh? OK, let me just finish my cuppa - "   
" - bring it with you! Let's go."

Reluctantly, Tonks took her tea with her and followed Delilah up the three sets of staircases that it took to reach Tonks' room. It was slightly smaller than the one that Sirius had allocated to Delilah, but it was cleaner - and smelt of burnt toast and butter beer. 

"Spill the beans, then, go on." An impatient Tonks began changing out of pyjamas and into normal clothes. As she chucked her top and bottoms onto the bed, Delilah noticed that one of Remus' cardigans were mixed amongst the clothes that Tonks had worn last night. 

"So. . . Sirius and I had sex," She admitted. 

"No shit, Sherlock," Tonks rolled her eyes, "you smell like him, and those are his jogging bottoms, not yours." 

Delilah looked down at the bottoms, which she now noticed were slightly oversized and bunched up at the feet. 

"Oh Merlin," she cursed, laying down on the bed. 

"So, when did you do the deed?" Tonks laughed. 

"Er - like, fifteen minutes ago. Ah, and we did. . . stuff. . . last night - at least I think so," she added awkwardly. 

"Check you out! What was once a girl who was ashamed of kissing someone after knowing them for a day or two is now a girl who has had sex with someone after two weeks or so," Tonks teased her. 

Delilah sighed, "I know, Tinkie, trust me, I know." 

"So, have you told me this because you want to know what went on between Remus and I, or is there something else as well?" Tonks cut straight to the point. 

"There's something else - he opened a letter from Charlie. He got angry because of how it came across." 

With no further explanation, Delilah found the crumpled letter within the contents of Sirius' pockets - it was scattered amongst a lighter, a marble, and crumbs of Godric knows what. 

"Oh. Yeah, I can see why this would look bad." Tonks handed the letter back to Delilah and then curled up next to her on the bed. 

"But. . . shouldn't he trust me? And shouldn't I be annoyed that he invaded my privacy like that? Does he really have the right to be annoyed at me over something like this?" Her mind filled with multiple questions that were popping up as fast as a dragonpox rash did. 

Tonks paused. 

"He shouldn't of opened the letter. But he did. Listen, Delly, you're the first person that he's actually interested in. Sometimes jealousy overrides a persons common sense, especially when they've been cooped up in a house like this for so long. And. . ." she trailed off. 

". . . and? And what?" 

"And, as much as you - and even Charlie - like to deny it, there is definitely something between you two. Something that should've happened, but never did. You're like soulmates. I've always thought that you were meant for each other." Tonks finished. 

You were meant for each other. 

Delilah thought about all that her and Charlie had gone through. How much that they had in common, and the way that he took her on adventures filled with magic and mayhem, and the way that he spent hours talking to her by woodland campfires, and the way that they soured amongst the mountains on dragons, and the way that his ginger hair was so soft, and - 

"Shit." Delilah said, her heart beating faster now. "What on earth am I doing, Tinkie?" 

"You're overthinking things," Tonks replied swiftly. 

"I am?" She took a large gulp. 

"Yes, you are. There is more to life than love. You and I have both joined the Order, and there are people that rely on us now. Tell me, did you ask Harry about what his experience was like over the summer holidays? Did you ask any of the Advanced Guard how the mission even went? Did you even know that to get Harry back safely, Mundungus Fletcher and Ms. Figg had to watch over him constantly?" 

". . . no, I didn't," she hung her head in shame. 

"Don't worry about it - no ones mad at you. Besides, you did almost die. I almost saw you die, for crying out loud," Tonks reminded her, her hair turning blue as she spoke, "So when I see you ripping your hair out over two men who aren't doing the same, it breaks my heart, Delly. You wanted to be an Auror for so long! That's what you should be overthinking - not any of this love malarkey. Remus, as sweet as he is, is still holding back. So I'm fully invested on paying attention to the Order. To the greater good. You should have the same attitude, too." 

"You're so right. This is why we are best friends, Tinks." 

The girls hugged each other, and then Tonks pulled away. 

"A drink?" Tonks suggested, which Delilah happily accepted despite it being eight thirty in the morning. 

Tonks shoved Remus' tattered cardigan out of the way to find a bottle of gin, and then summoned two glasses so that they could toast to each other. 

"To being independent ladies," Tonks hollered. The glasses clinked together, "and to the Order." 

"The Order." Delilah repeated.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"WHAT DO YOU mean, 'I need to focus on Fudge'?! You can't go after him without a plan!" 

"Do you question my astute?" Delilah had asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow as if to say try me. 

"Of course not - I question his," he said, "but you still need to answer my question." 

"What I mean is that - ugh, I don't know how to explain it. I just know that there's something dodgy going on with him. Something that he's hiding," Delilah tried to explain. 

There were a lot of missing pieces to the puzzle. 

How had Fudge recognised her? 

How had he combined spells together?

Why was he meeting with Lucius, a known Death Eater, in a back alleyway, but then denying the return of Voldemort to the public? 

"If you think that there's something that he's hiding, you should do what I said before, and we should go after him," Harry insisted, as if he could read his mind. 

"Go after the Minister for Magic?!" Sirius whispered in alarm, as if the four walls that surrounded them were listening intensely. 

"Yes, as part of the Order, and a part of my missions, it's something that I have to do. And when I say 'I', I mean 'I', Harry. You have your own issues to focus on, don't you?" Delilah queried. 

Harry nodded, a grim expression on his face, "yes, like getting kicked out of Hogwarts. And the Dark Lord." 

His sarcasm and disliking for the situation that he had no say in was not lost on Delilah, and it made her realise that Tonks had been right - there was so much that she didn't know about what had happened to him. 

"I forgot to ask you during our conversation yesterday. . . about the summer holidays, the Advanced Guard, about Mundungus and Ms. Figg - about getting kicked out. I need you to fill me in."

She had finished folding Sirius' clothes for him and now walked over to the bed that he was sat on, watching as Harry continued to pace back and forth in front of them. 

"I was attacked by Dementors, and Dudley was there. I used expecto patronum, and got letters about doing magic outside of school from the Ministry, as well as a letter expelling me from Hogwarts." He explained, "And I didn't know it at the time, but Mundungus and Ms Figg were watching over me all summer - they were ordered to by Dumbledore." 

"So they knew about the attack right away?" 

"No, Mundungus wasn't watching me at the time. Anyway, once I had gotten the letters, Arthur told me to stay put, so I had to wait before the Advanced Guard finally picked me up - " 

" - and this. . . this was around about the same time that I went on my first mission. Fudge spoke to Lucius about you. . . they thought that Dumbledore would come to pick you up." 

"Yeah, well they were wrong, because he can't bear the sight of me. The Advanced Guard picked me up the night that you were at the hospital. Apart from that, I've just been here with you," Harry looked at Sirius. 

Sirius leaned up from his previous position, "and there is lots that I need to tell you both, to help you - about my family - and Harry, we need to tell you about the Order - " 

" - about the Order? Sirius, as much as I wish we could tell Harry everything, isn't there stuff that the rest think that he shouldn't know?" She interjected. 

Harry looked between them both, "but you'll tell me, won't you? About whats said in the meetings. I think you're right, Delly. . . there's something that we can figure out, together - we can work together - but I can't help you if you don't help me."

Sirius looked at Delilah with puppy-dog eyes, wanting her approval before he told Harry what they both thought he rightly needed to know. 

"Sirius," she warned him. 

"Ok, ok, fine. I'll just mention it for the rest of the day to the point where they finally give in and let him attend a meeting," he said in a menacing tone, getting up from his bed, beckoning Harry and Delilah to come with him,  
"Dinner will be soon, I'm sure." 

"Did we just hear the word 'dinner'?" George asked, who had apparated just outside of the door. 

"Yeah, funnily enough, you did. Must you apparate right in front of me every time, Fred? It gets rather annoying," Sirius sighed. 

"He's not Fred, I am!" Fred called from up the stairs. 

Delilah grinned. She, too, could not tell them apart unless they were stood together, despite how many times the twins tried to educate her on the very minor differences of their appearances. 

They'll always be together - one or the other will always be able to correct me. . .

Whilst George rushed back up the stairs so that he and Fred could race each other, Delilah and the others formed together down in the kitchen, which still stunk of burnt toast and butter beer. 

"Hello, dearie." Molly patted her back, "chuck on an apron, will you? I could use some helping hands - or hand," she took a peak at the bandage, which was no longer bloody. 

"Of course, Molly. What with?" She asked, attempting to tie an apron around her back. 

"Here. . . let me get that for you." 

The sound of Sirius' voice from behind her was enough to make her stomach explode with butterflies. He tied the apron for her and his hand gently brushed against her lower back. 

"Er - thank you." She replied, repressing the flashbacks from that very same morning. Molly couldn't help but notice this exchange and barged between them: 

"Stew! Stew and butterbeer - I need you to help me carry the stew and butterbeer." 

The twins had now apparated next to the kitchen counters, in which a big cauldron of stew sat, as well as many big knives, forks and chopping boards. 

"Here you are, mother, Georgington and I can be of assistance. . ." Fred declared. 

The twins took one cheeky look at each other before nodding and doing some sort of spell or charm - she couldn't be certain - because as soon as they had done so, the cauldron of stew, breadboard, sharp knives and butterbeer were whizzing past them and towards the dining room upstairs.

Sirius cursed as one of the knives slipped off of the chopping board and fell dangerously close to his hand. He had already been wound up by the apparation that the twins were doing frequently around the house - and this looked like it was going to set him off. 

"BOYS!" Arthur bellowed, his newspaper smacking the table as he stood up in anger. 

"You two!" Molly followed suit, tapping them around their heads, "how many times do we have to go through this before you get it into your heads? Don't use magic irresponsibly!" 

Their faces grew as dark red as their hair, and their freckles disappeared completely. 

"Sorry, Mother." George said, his head hung low. Harry was clearly trying not to laugh at Sirius, who Delilah turned to see - he was yanking the knife out of the floorboard and rolling his eyes at Harry as he did so. 

"It's not me you should be apologising to, is it? You both almost chopped Sirius' hand clean off!" She warned. 

"Sorry, Sirius." "Sorry, Sirius." 

"That's better. Now, no more apparating - or wands, for that matter - " Arthur stretched out his hand, "- come on, you two! Now!" 

Reluctantly, they both took their wands out of their clothing and handed them over, and then followed Mollys instructions to take the knife and go upstairs to return it to the chopping board. 

Once they were out of earshot, she vented to Delilah: 

"They're the reason why I have grey hairs, I swear!" 

Arthur reassured her that Bill would be there soon to distract them from anything but the mayhem that was ensuing within Grimmauld Place. 

She couldn't help but wonder if Bill was their favourite child - after all, Molly did seem most fussed about who Bill ended up with, and not at all fussed about the rest of her children when it came to their love lives. 

It wasn't long before everyone was gathered around the dinner table once more, divulging in a flavoursome stew that practically melted the bread that they dunked in it, and washing it all down with butternut squash. 

Once more, heated discussions and conversations about all sorts of things were happening in every corner. 

Bill was telling Remus and Arthur about his struggle with the goblins due to Ludo Bagman - whatever that meant - and Molly was having to tell yet another person off, this time Mundungus, because he was trying to talk about Order related things during dinner, which was a topic strictly off limits when the children were around. 

Instead of helping their mother with the dishes like they normally would, the twins marched straight up to their room along with Ron and Hermione, who were still having a heated discussion about whether it was appropriate or not to wipe barbecue sauce on someone else's sleeve - a reoccurring discussion that had been dragged on since the night that they had all had the American themed dinner. 

Delilah tried to reason with all of them, and eventually they all came back downstairs, just in time for Molly to allow everyone but Ginny to listen in on the next meeting - clearly, Sirius' plan had worked. 

Soon, the dinner table had turned to the Order table, and Delilah sat next to Harry. She watched the candle wax slowly reaching the top of the table as they melted away in front of her whilst they told Harry, and everyone else, everything that they needed to know. 

"It sounds to me like the Order is important in its mission to defeat Cornelius Fudge and. . . and You Know Who." Hermione acknowledged, "so why are you having trouble recruiting people to the cause?" 

"Sirius is a wanted murderer, I'm a werewolf - anyone that works for the Ministry would be sacked or even killed if they get caught out - Dumbledore is losing his credibility within the wizarding community due to the press. . . must I go on?" Remus listed the magnitude of reasons to the young witch. 

Tonks chucked a copy of the most recent Daily Prophet their way. 

Delilah could just make out the two headtitles:

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖙 

𝕴𝖘 𝕯𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖟𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖙?

𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕻𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖗: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖞 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖉 

"We believe that he's trying to distract from what happened the other night," Remus directly told Delilah, who raised her eyebrows, "workers found the blood, all over the street. People were panicking like mad - because there was a lot of it - but of course, they found nothing else. For now, Fudge has no clue where you are, and if Dumbledore was there when he hit you with those spells." 

"He lives in fear." Mundungus added pointedly, which made Delilah feel slightly pleased with herself. Good. 

"So, there is trouble with recruitment. What else don't we know? What's happening with Voldemort now?" Harry asked, his nostrils flaring when his eyes locked with the paper that Hermione was now furiously reading.

He could see himself on the front page, along with Dumbledore, someone that he trusted immensely. . . but the titles were all lies - it was all Ministry propaganda. 

It must be quite the thing to wrap your head around. 

Harry looked up at Delilah, but anything to do with Voldemort and his current plans were out of her expertise - so they turned to Sirius, who, being confined to Grimmauld Place, had spoken to all of the Order members about their current affairs as they came and went during all times of the day and night. 

"He's trying to retrieve a weapon. . ." Sirius began, whilst Remus tried to tell Sirius to stop, "something that he didn't have last time - " 

" - enough, Sirius, thats enough!" Molly slammed a hand on the table. 

Everyone turned to look at her. 

"He's just a boy." The words escaped her lips as quickly as her demands for the children to all go upstairs did. 

He's just a boy. 

What did the rest of the Order know about Voldemort that she did not? Delilah made a mental note to pay more attention in Order meetings from now on, and not get distracted with theories about Cornelius Fudge. . . 

. . . and to stop sitting near Sirius Black, who was a massive distraction in itself. 

The members of the Order were quiet for some time, all of them feeling rather on edge. Remus was raking his hands through his hair, which he often did when he was stressed, and Arthur was comforting Molly, who had clearly had a rather stressful evening. 

Delilah knew that Sirius only wanted Harry to be prepared - he didn't want Harry to end up as hurt as he was. 

"Want me to check it for you?" Sirius asked Delilah, who had not even realised that she had been clutching the thick bandage on her arm. 

She nodded apprehensively and they dismissed themselves, having to shut the curtains of the painting of his mother, who had been set of once again by Hermione, before they could retrieve Remus' medical kit. 

They ignored the sounds of talking coming from Fred and George's room - it was only natural that they were going to wonder what more was going on that they weren't being let on to. 

"We might as well go outside for a bit. We've been stuck around a table for what feels like half of the day," Sirius muttered, whilst complaining about his bad back. 

The garden chair was littered with a few more rain - filled glasses and dampened cigarette ends. Sirius cleared the chair so that she had somewhere to sit, took away the sling, and then unwrapped the bandage. 

Where there had once been a wound was now replaced by a deep, inky purple scar. 

"Merlin, it's hideous," she laughed. 

"Ah ah ah," Sirius tutted, "Don't think I've forgotten about what you told me about scars." 

"What did I tell you?" She asked, staring down into the velvety purple of her arm that matched the velvety purple night sky. 

"Every scar tells a story. . . the more of them, the better." 

"I said that? I must of been drunk - it's proper cheesy." She laughed again, this time her eyes shutting as she did so. If they had been open, she would've seen Sirius grin just at the sight of her. 

"So, at least Harry knows some more that he did before, I suppose," he changed the conversation, whilst wrapping her arm back up in the bandage. 

"I suppose so. It's such a difficult game to play, though. None of us have a clue what we are doing, in the grand scheme of things. I guess we will just have to figure things out as we go along."

"I think you're right," he nodded, "but hopefully we will know if Harry can go back soon." 

"What do you mean?" She asked, as she bent her head down so that he could loop her sling back over her shoulder. 

"Well, he has the Ministry hearing, of course." 

Delilah stood up upon hearing this - she had just had a lightbulb moment. 

"Shit, Sirius, that's it!" She tried not to make too much noise. 

"What? What have I done?" He sounded concerned. 

She grabbed his face and made him look at her. 

"Earlier on today you said that I couldn't go after him if I didn't have a plan. But that's it! That's how Harry and I can help each other - I can sneak in whilst he's having his trial and infiltrate the Ministry! What do you think?" 

"Oh, you're got to be fucking kidding me."


	12. Chapter Twelve

ENCAPSULATED IN A tenebrous office, the only thing that Delilah could see were his beady eyes. 

"I can see you, Delilah. Try as you might, I can see you. Right through you." 

With each blink they gleamed amongst the darkness that surrounded them. 

He continued, "I've been watching. I've been waiting. And thanks to your dim-witted plan, I can finish what I started. . ." 

Her chest fell up and down as she realised that she was trapped. He had caught her. He had won. He knew where Grimmauld Place was. . . he knew where Grimmauld Place was. . . Grimmauld Place. . . 

Her eyes shot open. 

It had been yet another nightmare. A string of them had occured that night, starting as soon as she had said goodnight to Sirius. He had told her to get some sleep before acting upon her idea to infiltrate the Ministry, concerned that something would go wrong again. 

The reminder of what happened last time stung, and when she finally rested her head on the pillow, she couldn't shake the feeling. 

Each time she awoke from a nightmare, she looked around the room for the Minister, afraid that the it had manifested into reality. 

When she couldn't go back to sleep, she decided to seek the person that always knew how to comfort her. 

She knocked on the door as gently as possible, and let it slowly creak until there was enough of a gap to whisper: 

"Ginny! Are you awake?" 

There was a stirring sound and then, "Yeah. Come in." 

She crept into the room and towards Ginnys bed, which was soft and smelt of treacle tarts and flowers.

"Another bad dream?" She whispered, letting Delilah fall into the bed beside her. 

"Yeah. He caught me again. It was the same dream as the one earlier. Oh, this is stupid - I need to stop bothering you. I'll go - " 

"Don't be silly, you can stay. Besides, Hermione is asleep now. I'll just be lonely if you go. Was it that one where you had just left Harrys trial to go to his office?" 

Delilah nodded, although she was concealing Ginny from the full truth.

She left out the vivid details, such as the blood seeping from the walls, or the dark mark on his forearm.

Arthur and Molly wanted Ginny protected, and she didn't want to fill Ginny's head with the same thoughts that filled her own. 

"Did he say the same thing about finishing what he started?" Ginny asked sleepily. 

"Yeah." 

"It's ok, Delly. Don't be scared. Want me to plait your hair again?" 

"No, it's ok, its late. Could you. . . could you tell me a story? Charlie always used to tell me stories," Delilah whispered. 

"Yeah, ok. I'll tell you a story." 

Ginny looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, before she began: 

"Once upon a time, there was a girl called. . . Grinny." 

"You mean Ginny?" 

"No, Grinny. This story is made up, silly."

"Oh, I see, I see. Carry on." 

"There was a girl called Grinny, and she had lots of brothers - Brill, Proncy, Grog, Frog, Rob. . . and Chorley." 

"Chorley?" 

"Yes, Chorley. Are you going to keep on interrupting?" 

"Sorry. OK, tell me more about this Chorley." 

"Well, Chorley likes dragons, and he lives far, far away from the rest of his siblings. Chorley was looking for a princess, you see, so he searched all of the lands until his dragon brought him back to where he had started - back to. . ." Ginny looked down at Delilahs bad arm and then settled on, "Brave." 

"I see." 

"Chorley told Brave that he would take her on a magical adventure, and Brave agreed, so she got on the back of the dragon and they flew away, back to the far away land. They couldn't stay there for long, however - because a battle was beginning." 

"A battle?" 

"Yeah, a battle. Chorley didn't want Brave to get hurt again, so he decided that he wanted to save her - " 

" - I think Brave can save herself, thank you very much, Chorley," Delilah retorted. 

"Oh, ok, fine. Brave, being brave, decides to go back and face the battle by herself - " 

" - Brave doesn't want to be by herself, though." 

"So, Chorley follows her?" Ginny asked, seeming confused. 

"Maybe. Or maybe she's followed by someone else." 

"Like who?" 

"You haven't mentioned. . . Prodfrot."

"Prodfrot?" 

"Yeah. He's a Knight, in shining armour, and he doesn't ride dragons. . . but he's waiting back home for Brave. What happens to Prodfrot?" Delilah asked. 

Ginny looked back down at Delilah and grinned, "well, Brave decides to face the Battle by herself, anyway. She defeats all the bad guys, and when the good guys win, she gets to pick between the two handsome suitors." 

"She gets to pick?" 

"Yeah, of course. And then they all live happily ever after, no matter what choice she makes. They all eat a massive chocolate cake to celebrate, and they chant for Brave, who saved the day." Ginny adds, growing more tired as she described the ending of the tale. 

"Cool. Thanks Grinny - Ginny, I mean. That was a great story." 

"I didn't realise that you liked Charlie," Ginny smiled. 

"What? Don't be daft. I like the sound of Chorley, though. What about you?" She grinned. 

"Not Prodfrot. Thats an awful name. Grinny can date. . . Horry." 

"Oh, I see," Delilah nudged her, and Ginny nudged her back, "but Horry wasn't mentioned in the story."

"That's because Grinny thought that Horry needed a break. You know, in the hypothetical story, that is." Ginny added quickly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, in the hypothetical story. Goodnight, Gins." Delilah whispered. Ginny gave her a tight hug, as if she was trying to squeeze her bravery into her.

"Night night. Get some sleep, we're cleaning again tomorrow."

She wished that there were more people like Ginny to give her hugs and tell her stories, and she wished that she didn't think of Charlie as she rested her head on Ginnys hair. 

Delilah woke up in the morning having had no other nightmares, although she felt them seeping into the daytime, too. . . no amount of cleaning could distract her from the fact that Fudge was out there. 

She went over her plan time and time again in her head, evaluating every little detail and contemplating every scenario. 

"What are you boys whispering about?" She asked Fred and George, who spoke in hushed whispers in the corner of the room. Harry looked up and beckoned her over. 

"Right, we'll tell you too because we know that you'll keep it to yourself. So, you know that Fred and I are doing really well with our products?" George whispered. 

"Yeah?" 

"Well, thanks to none other than Mr Potter himself, we've just got a place to start a joke shop. Mum doesn't know, of course, because she's cancelled her subscription to the newspapers after seeing that one about Harry and Dumbledore," Fred explained. 

"Ooh, interesting! You can't start anything whilst you are still at school, though, surely?" She asked the boys. 

"Still trying to figure all of that out," Fred nodded, "but, this is something that could last, that we could turn into a family business." 

Delilah grinned. A joke shop - it would suit the pesky twins perfectly.

"I'm proud of you, boys. This is crazy - I remember being there to try the first bag of sweets! I better get discount." 

"Yeah, well, thats if we make it out of this house alive. Mum still wants to strangle us after what we did last night." George huffed. 

As much as Delilah could try and deny this, there wasn't much point. The parents had given the twins stern looks when everyone went downstairs to eat that morning, and Arthur was still holding onto their wands. 

Harry whispered, "you just need to lay off the apparation for the rest of the day - " 

He paused to listen to the muffled sounds of Molly arguing with Mundungus Fletcher in another room, and then turned back to the twins. 

" - or perhaps a week or two." He added. Harry then stood up as the door opened, his interest turning from the conversation to Kreacher, who he had clearly not met yet. 

Delilah returned to cleaning, a task that she was better suited to now that her arm was almost fully healed. Ron was still squealing each time that a spider crawled out from under the cabinet that they were supposed to conquer together, and she was fed up of zapping them with her wand each time for him. 

"How about you go with Fred and George to clean with them? I'm sure Harry and I can do the rest of this room perfectly fine." Delilah offered, hoping that this would be the perfect chance to tell Harry about her plan. 

Ron heartedly agreed and left the room alongside Kreacher, who Sirius was berating in the corridor. As he entered the room, Delilah gave him a pointed look, as if to say don't forget that you need to treat him nicely. Sirius smiled sheepishly and called out into the corridor, "love you, Kreacher!" 

"Alright, you two?" Sirius asked them. 

Delilah decided not to tell Sirius about her nightmares, nor did she tell Harry. Instead, they talked about what was going on between the twins and Mrs Weasley, before Sirius locked eyes with the tapestry that hung from the wall. 

"Ah, yes, the noble and most ancient house of Black." He spat, "What a load of tosh." 

"Your family tree?" Harry asked, as he run his fingers along the woven fabric. From across the room, Delilah could not read the names underneath each face, but she could see that it spanned quite far and that there were burn marks that concealed some of the faces, which Sirius explained as something that his mother did whenever she disowned someone, or when they strayed against the strict family values, such as the purification of wizarding families. 

"She disowned you?" Delilah asked, as she watched Harrys hand settle on where Sirius' face once was. 

Sirius nodded gravely, "when I was sixteen. I packed my bags, never came back." 

"But where did you go?" 

"To your Dads," He told Harry, his eyes filled with nostalgia as he looked away, "he was a brother to me. His family looked after me until my uncle left me some money to live on my own." 

He pointed at yet another black dot on the tapestry, referring to his uncle. Delilah finally walked over so that she could read the family tree, curious to know who belonged in it. 

There was Tonks, obviously, who was Sirius' second cousin and displayed just below her mother, Andromeda, who was disowned as well.

Andromeda had two sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, and through Narcissa the Malfoys were connected - Draco, and Lucius, who Delilah had seen meet with Fudge. 

Everyone in this family is in line with the Dark Lords beliefs - they believe that only Pure Bloods should live in the Wizarding World. 

Sirius' words echoed in her head. 

She turned her attention back to Sirius, who was explaining how his brother was probably murdered for betraying the Dark Lord, having strayed from the Death Eaters after joining them. 

"Lunch everyone." Molly called, not sounding as enthusiastic as she normally did. Harry turned to Delilah, who was staring at Lucius Malfoy. 

"Coming, Delly?" He asked. 

"I'll be down in a minute. Just need to speak to Sirius about something." 

Harry nodded and left the room, as Sirius leant against the tapestry and lit a cigarette. Delilah did not bother to bicker with him over it - after everything he had just explained to them, she felt like she understood him just that little bit more. 

She was still trying to process what had happened to Regulus when she heard a whimper from behind her - and turned to see that Sirius was wiping his eyes. 

"It's like staring at a ghost." 

"What is?" 

"Every time I look at Harry. . . I just see James, and Lily. I found them, Delilah. Right after it happened, I found them, and I couldn't save them. And now every time I look at him, it's like staring at a ghost. . . alive, but dead at the same time." 

She was surprised to see him open up to her like this, and be this vulnerable. Delilah hated to talk about her experience of death, or her parents, or... anything. She was stood close to him now, wiping the tear from his cheek, as he stood up from where he had been crouched on the floor and choked on his next words, 

"What if Harry dies too?" 

She was hugging him now, wanting him to stop talking. He feared every word that he said, and his thoughts made her own disappear in that moment. She realised that it wasn't just her that was stuck in her own head, sometimes. 

"Thoughts like that will drown you, Sirius. Believe me." She whispered. He let go and took a drag of his cigarette, before turning to the tapestry, a look of bitterness etched upon his darkened features. 

Little did she know, he had nightmares too. They started the night that he had found them, and they had never went away. 

"Fuck them. Fuck all of them. One day, when we win, I'll come back to this place, and I'll burn the whole thing down." He muttered, looking at his mother, whos face seemed proud to be scattered amongst the other members that lay on the emerald surface. 

He pressed the cigarette directly onto her portrait and twisted it, staining her face to a dark grey in addition to leaving chunks of tobacco laced upon the tapestry, "but for now, that will do."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

RAKING A HAND through his hair, which was now peppered with grey strands, Remus let out a deep sigh. 

"That's a suicide mission, Delilah. You are asking us to let you carry out a plan that could get you killed!"

His first full moon spent at Grimmauld Place had been and gone, leaving him on edge and with notable cuts and bruises, which were partially concealed by the sleeve of his cardigan. 

It had now been a couple of days since Sirius had opened up about the history of his family. Since then he had been recounting everything that he knew to Delilah and Harry, believing that it would come of use to them at some point. 

"If you want to defeat them, you need to understand them first. Then, you will learn why they were almost successful the first time." 

His words of wisdom had impacted Delilah to write a letter to Dumbledore - after all, even the Death Eaters heavily leaned on their own leader for advice and guidance from time to time.

ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴡʙᴅ, 

ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀsᴋs ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ᴀᴛ sᴛ ᴍᴜɴɢᴏs ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴘʟᴇɴᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛᴀsᴋs ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ, sᴜᴄʜ ᴀs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ.

ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴅᴏ ғɪʀsᴛ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪ ᴀsᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴄᴜss ɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴀsᴀᴘ (ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ)

sɪɴᴄᴇʀᴇʟʏ,   
ᴅᴇʟɪʟᴀʜ ᴅᴇʟᴀᴄʀᴏɪx

She had almost instantly received her reply. The chocolatey brown owl that had delivered it eagerly pecked away at the sleeve that hid her scar whilst she read the letters contents: 

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚑,

𝚢𝚎𝚜. 

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢,   
𝙰𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚜 𝙳𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎

It was now the night before the trial, and Delilah was being questioned about the severity of the consequences of her plan if it was to fail.

"This is the perfect opportunity, Remus. I know where he will be, at what times, and therefore where he won't be, at what times - " she stressed. 

"He's right, though. . . you almost died last time," Sirius backed Remus up. 

"I should've tried harder then, shouldn't I? This is my job, guys. There are risks that go along with it - "

Delilah pulled up the sleeve of her top. The bandage had now been removed, as the wound had fully healed. With the sleeve rolled back, she had revealed the purple, inky abyss of the scar that ran deep across her arm. It had a silk like shine across its surface, whilst it looked almost as if shards of glass dug deep inside. 

" - and I did not get that for nothing." 

Remus looked at the scar and gulped. Although he had a large collection of them himself, this one was unlike any that he had seen - a magical scar that looked like what it was. Magical. 

"We know, and its not that we don't want you to do anything, it's just that -" Remus stopped mid sentence to ogle at the wizard who had entered the room.

Albus Dumbledore. 

The yellow light from the flickering candles mounted upon the wall and scattered around the table reflected against the wizards half moon spectacles, that were sat on the very edge of his nose. His silvery eyes gazed above them as he looked at each member around the table before settling on her.

"You asked to see me?" He asked Delilah. 

"I did, Sir." 

"In regards to the upcoming trial? If so, there is no need to fret. I plan for both Arthur and I to accompany Harry." Dumbledore spoke softly. 

"We all believe that he is in good hands, especially with Amelia Bones overhearing. Delly, I believe, wants to speak to you about infiltrating the ministry." Tonks replied. 

"Alas! We have another Voldemort on our hands," Dumbledore chuckled, before reigniting the flame of a candle in front of him, and then pulling out a chair to sit on, "Alastor, what do you think of said plan?" 

Alastor Moody was, as usual, stood in the very corner of the room, his magical eye scanning the room hectically as if they all had something to hide. 

"It's actually a rather simple one. The only issue with it is the unknown - she could encounter any number of issues, threats, dangers, obstacles," Alastor said gruffly. 

"But if it does work, it will give us valuable information. Imagine, if I can sneak into his office and find something. . . there's got to be something in there?" Delilah looked at Dumbledore desperately, hoping that he would back her up seeing as the majority of the Order were against her. 

"No doubt about it," Dumbledore answered. 

"I just need something in order to stay hidden. And not a Deluminator - that was one of the things that gave me away last time," Delilah reminded the wizard, who looked thoughtful as he gazed at the wavering flame in front of him, "they cannot suspect that it's me." 

Soon, Dumbledore returned to the conversation by adding, "You are quite right. Something that won't give you away. . . they can't suspect that it's you. . ." 

He stood back up and left the room, and since nobody else followed him, she accompanied him out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. 

". . . Harry has an invisibility cloak, which Fudge does not know that he is in possession of. Tomorrow - the day of his trial - you must accompany Arthur to the ministry, and only stay for one hour. That's how I can be of assistance - by giving you more time." 

"May I ask how you will do that, Sir?" 

"I will have the trial take place on the bottom floor, and explain things in extruating detail whilst I am there," he winked, "but despite our combined best efforts, Death Eaters will most certainly be on the look out." 

The very thought of it hit her like a tonne of bricks. 

"Gosh, am I stupid for doing this?" She asked him. He nodded. 

"Utterly bonkers. But between us Gryffindors, we like to call it bravery. Which is something that you have an abundance of." 

"How can I trust that it will all go to plan?" She bit her nail, feeling rather uncomfortable to be this vulnerable to an authority figure that had recruited her to be anything but. 

Dumbledore looked rather thoughtful before saying, "'a bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because her trust is not on the branch but on its wings.'"

"That's. . . very true. Did you come up with that?" 

Dumbledore shook his head, "Me? No. If I recall correctly, it was a quote that I stumbled upon whilst reading the self help book that Professor McGonagall bought me for my short lived trip to Bora Bora. I did not catch a tan, I'm afraid, but if the quote is deemed useful by you, then I am glad that I spent a few hours reading it in the sun." 

Delilah smiled and thanked him. Peculiar as he might be, he always knew how to bestow his wisdom upon others, and lighten the mood of a room. He left every conversation leaving the recipient feeling inspired, and rarely took or asked anything from others. 

Dumbledore bid her farewell and left in a flash, leaving her alone in the corridor. 

The plan had now been put into action, which meant that she was simply counting down the time until she would once again be back at the Ministry. This time, more prepared. 

The doom and gloom of the corridor reminded her of her nightmares, which washed the proud away and replaced it with the feeling of being watched. Hating every moment of it, Delilah went to open the door to the dining room once more, but this time, bashed into something heavy. 

"Ouch, I was trying to listen in on that!" Sirius complained, rubbing his shoulder. 

"Why? You know that I would come back in and tell you lot anyway," she smiled, sliding dangerously close to get past him. 

"Plan is going ahead?" Alastor asked, shifting over to the spare seat at the table. Delilah nodded as his magical eye scanned her with curiosity, "then everyone else can clear off. I need to discuss some things with you, Auror to Auror." 

Moody drew a map of each floor of the Ministry, pointing out the quickest and quietest route to Fudges office, as well as how long she would actually have to rummage around before the trial would be over. 

"Righ' then, I think that's all you need to know. Until the trial, we can go through your spells - and the plan. This is your first mission without me, so I want you to be under constant vigilance. Understood?" 

"Understood." They brought their wands together, the sound of the wood causing a heavy tapping sound that caused Kreacher to begin his complaining. 

"Shut it, you ruddy old thing. Your previous master makes more noise then we do, and she's in the ruddy afterlife!" Moody rambled, sick of listening to the house elf. 

"Alastor! He's just an innocent little elf. Sorry, Kreacher, we are both leaving now. You'll have some peace and quiet." Delilah apologised to him. 

That night, whilst drowning in her own thoughts, she remembered what Dumbledore had said to her. 

She could either sink, or fly. She just wasn't sure if her wings were strong enough yet. 

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

UNDER THE SAFETY of the invisibility cloak, Delilah followed Harry and Arthur through the London underground and to the Ministry of Magic Headquarters. 

Her scar seemed to ache when she was nervous. It felt ironic for everyone to be calling her brave, when she had to hide under a cloak, sneak around, and avoid all confrontation. It was almost as if it were foreboding something, but she chose to ignore it. 

Sirius had kept on telling her that it wasn't her fault that the mission had gone wrong last time, but she was rather stubborn and had therefore made her mind up. 

Whenever the whirlpool erupted in her head, she suddenly found herself desperately trying to swim to shore - but her lungs were always winded by 'I should of tried harder. . . I just wasn't watching properly. . . you almost ruined the entire thing. . . how pathetic you must of looked. . . secretly, nobody thinks that you are good enough.' 

"All okay in there?" Arthur joked, sensing that Delilah was walking next to him due to her heavy breathing. 

"Er - yes. Yep. All okay." 

When they were underground and inside the Ministry, she decided that she ought to try to disconnect - there were other obstacles that she now had to overcome, rather than just the simple hurdles that were her toxic thoughts. 

Delilah had been inside the Ministry before, and had also spent a significant amount of time going over the map that Moody had drawn for her the night previous, so she knew where Fudges office was. 

She nudged Harry and quickly whispered, "I'm off, Harry. Good luck - not that you'll need it." 

She weaved her way through the many workers that trod along the dark oak floors of Basement Level 8, being mindful not to bump into any of them. 

That, in itself, was anxiety inducing, and she had almost reached the golden gates at the end of the room when she accidently bumped into a bald man with a large briefcase.

Thinking on her feet, she simply tapped the shoulder of another so that they each turned and gave each other a watch where you are going! look. 

With the invisibility cloak concealing everything apart from her feet, which nobody payed attention to anyway, Delilah slipped past the golden gates that led to the lifts. 

She had successfully made it past the Reception area and the security desks. 

As she was waiting for a lift to take her to the first floor, she couldn't help but notice a large flag depicting a boastful Fudge hanging across the windows high above her. 

It really was like a dictorship - Delilah remembered discussing it with Kingsley Shacklebolt during the meetings that she attended following her discussion with Tonks. 

She had asked Kingsley to tell her all about his own missions and observations in order to gain a deeper understanding of what each member of the Order was going through, and in turn had learnt quite a lot about Kingsley and his strength and determination, as well as his skillfull eye at observing things. 

"If that awful flag is still hanging up there next time you arrive at the Ministry, you'll understand what I mean. He's clinging onto power for dear life. He wants people to be afraid of him, but also to admire him. Its like a dictatorship."

The lift opened with a familiar ding, and Delilah had to squeeze into the far corner in order to go unnoticed, just hoping that someone would press the button for Basement Level 1. 

Just before the doors closed, none other than Cornelius Fudge, Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge made their way in. Many of the workers that had been waiting for the doors to close departed upon their arrival - almost afraid to be contained in the little box with them for any longer than that fleeting moment. 

Lucius had a firm grip on his walking stick, which was black with a metal skull at the very top. He wore an all black ensemble which contrasted with his long white hair, that resembled Dumbledores' - the only difference being that Lucius' looked like it had been straightened multiple times. His jaw clenched firmly when Dolores coughed rather faintly. 

Delilahs attention turned to her. She was a much shorter women, and looked strikingly different to Lucius, as her outfit was head-to-toe pink. She was unpleasant to look at, despite her best efforts - and as she reached into her small handbag to retrieve a copy of a trial briefing, Delilah had to hold her breath and tuck her feet back into the invisibility cloak. 

Fudge was, strangely, facing backwards from the doors to the lift, and his beady eyes were settled on Lucius and Dolores. It was almost as if he didn't trust them enough to have his back turned to them. Delilah did not look at him at all, because his stare was anxiety inducing. 

She tried to contain her breathing as the buzzing noise of Basement Level 8 turned to a hum, and then completely melted away as the lift began making its way down. 

She did not have to wait long, because Basement Level 10 could only be accessed by staircase, and therefore the three of them left when the doors opened for Basement Level 9. When they closed again, she breathed a sigh of relief and pressed the button for Basement Level 1 - the floor that contained Fudges office, as well as other high ranking Ministry officials and admin staff. 

After what felt like an eternity, the doors chimed open yet again. Delilah was careful to crouch so as not to reveal her feet, as she crept along the turquoise carpets and through a slim corridor to the left of the reception desk, where two burly guards stood behind a timid receptionist who was typing away at her computer. 

Each door had the title of some Ministry workers that she hadn't even heard of, and most of the office lights were turned off and also also empty. Delilah assumed that this was because of Harrys trial. 

At the very end of the corridor, she spotted the door marked:

Cornelius Fudge   
Minister of Magic 

But. . . it didn't feel right. 

Why didn't it feel right to go inside? 

Delilah felt like yelling to herself - you don't have much time! Time spent gripping onto a cool metal handle and hesitating to enter rooms was time that was wasted. Eventually, her brain settled on an answer. . . 

"Some Death Eaters lurk in the shadows. Some lurk in plain sight." 

Sirius' words echoed in her head. 

Her hand let go of the handle, and she slowly turned to Dolores Umbridges' office. 

The light was on. 

The door was open. 

Inside, it was as nauseatingly pink as the outfit that she had been wearing in the lift. Even the clock on the wall was pink - and so were the handles that were ticking away. 

She set to work examining the room, being careful to place a muffliato on the office and also careful not to disrupt any of the objects that filled the room.

It did not take long before she was ruffling through a filing cabinet that seemed to be housing blackmail against various people. One file was marked 'Severus Snape', and inside was a book marked: 

Property of the Half - Blood Prince 

It had a pink post-it note on the front cover that noted that it was to be returned to Hogwarts once the notes had been transferred. 

What exactly was in this book that was so important to potential Death Eaters? How would it be used as blackmail against Snape? Or did Snape simply want them to think that it was of use to them? 

Delilah placed the book on the top of the desk and flicked through it. It was a textbook filled with scruffy handwritten notes - which matched the handwriting of her old Professor. 

She soon realised that it was filled with spells and notes for dark magic. One, in particular, stood out the most to her, because it was the very one that Fudge had used against her. . . sectumsempra. 

Delilah put the file back begrudgingly - Snape and his fascination with the dark arts as a teenager did not shock her, and it was not the information that she was seeking. She was looking for something about Fudge. 

She continued to scan past the "s" section, but couldn't help but settle on the file marked 'Sirius Black'. 

Delilah took out the file and placed it on the desk, checking to see the time. The trial was bound to be over soon - she would have to cast a doubling charm. 

She turned around quickly to find the file dedicated to Cornelius Fudge, and was glad to find that it was rather hefty and contained more post it notes with delicate handwritten notes such as:

TOP SECRET- OPERATION EUFDG 

She placed it on top of Sirius' file, took out her wand whispered, "Geminio!" 

The original files were returned back to the filing cabinet, and Delilah shut the draw feeling rather pleased with herself. Now all she had to do was take the copied files and get the hell out of there. 

Only there was one problem. 

One of the bodyguards was stood in the doorway, holding the files that had previously been on the desk. 

He pressed a button on his walkie-talkie and said: 

"Paul, I'm gonna need some backup down the Ministry Officials corridor, over." 

"Why, what is it, Brian?" 

"There's. . . there's a pair of feet." 

Delilah looked down towards where the bodyguard had a fixed gaze. He was indeed correct: her shoes were no longer hidden. 

Worst of all, she was trapped.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content/trigger warnings:  
> Fight scene, mild violence, swearing

IN LESSON ONE of Auror training, Alastor Moody taught his students how to break a leg. 

In lesson two of Auror training, Alastor Moody taught his students how to break multiple. 

Delilah never really considered that she would ever be in a situation where she would need to break multiple legs at the same time - and yet, here she was, having been caught in an overly pink office whilst copying top secret blackmail documents - all because she had forgotten to hide her feet under the invisibility cloak. 

She could hear the thudding of footsteps approaching as someone else made their way towards the office, and could only assume that this was Paul, the other burly bodyguard that had just been called for backup moments ago.

She was correct. 

Now, it was two against one, and deciding that she needed a headstart, she stuck her hand out and disarmed them. 

"Oi, give that back! Brian, go and get Umbri - " 

Delilah snapped one of the wands in half and threw it to floor. 

" - I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Delilah stood on the wand and crushed it, angering the one that the wand belonged to, Paul, as he marched towards her. She lifted the same foot and used all her might to kick him where she knew it would hurt, which caused him to fall to the floor and her to crash into the filing cabinet. 

Brian took her moment of weakness as an opportunity to pull the invisibility cloak off of her. The thick cloak fell to the floor and had taken her own wand along with it, and as she desperately tried to seek it, Brian seized her bad arm. 

Her scar did not ache, but instead stung, the purple abyss swirling into an intensely vivid colour and then flushing the rest of her forearm into the same. 

"Get the fuck off me, you bitch! What are you doing? What are - what are - what are you?" Brian demanded. His shocked tone and clear disgust was enough to make Delilah looked down at his own arm. It appeared to be withering away. 

He was clearly in pain, because he released his grasp and instead tried to throw a punch at her. She tore her gaze away from his arm and ducked away from his reach, flinching as her head hit the filing cabinet once more. 

The commotion had clearly given Paul some time to recuperate, because he was now scrambling off of the floor. 

She tightened her grip on the strangers wand, having not found her own. Having never performed magic with a wand aside from hers, the wandwood felt unfamiliar and oddly jittery. 

She wasn't going to let tweedledumb and tweedledee hurt her again, or waste any more of her time then they had to. 

"Locomotor mortis! Locomotor mortis!" 

The leg locker curse was a rather useful defensive spell for combat: both men fell back to the ground with a wobble, giving her the opportunity to break all of the legs in the room that did not belong to her. 

With both men on the floor, she knew that she didn't have much time before the receptionist called for more back up, and so she dropped to her knees and flung her arms around, feeling for the cloak. 

Eventually she felt the smooth, velvety material in her hand, and was about to hold onto it when she felt a tug on her leg, and then an almighty pull - a grunting Paul had yanked her backwards and away from the cloak, losing the grip of her fingers. 

There wasn't going to be any more limbs to break in a moment, and she decided to spare him his arms - after all, he was just doing his job. But she was just doing hers. . . and so a kick in the face put a stop to his antics. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she happened upon the cloak again, lifting it up and off the floor to reveal her wand that had been tangled up inside of it. 

Now I just need to leave as quick as Dumbledore left Bora Bora, she thought to herself.

She pointed the strangers wand at them both and calmly said: 

"Reliviate, reliviate!" 

Similarly to obliviate, one of the two memory charms, reliviate altered the memory, but not entirely - instead, she had simply taken away all knowledge that this fight had ensued and replaced it with the memory that they had been sat behind the receptionists desk the entire time. 

Delilah took the files from the now sleeping bodyguards and hid them under the invisibility cloak before slipping it back over herself. She snapped the strangers wand in half and disregarded it with the other one before making her way out of the office. The hallway was oddly quiet and the receptionist was nowhere to be found, which felt relieving until she stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the people stood by the lift. 

Her breath hitched in her throat- the presence of Fudge, Umbridge and Malfoy meant that the trial was over. Delilah desperately wanted to go and see if Harry was okay. 

Consciously double checking her shoes to make sure that they weren't on display, she slipped past the trio to step onto the lift. 

They were about to receive a nasty surprise when the two bodyguards were found - but it wasn't her issue. The doors swung shut and she pressed the button for Basement Level 8 again. 

Delilah also had a feeling that this wouldn't be the final time that she would be infiltrating the Ministry. 

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

"WOTCHER, BITCHFACE!"

Tonks grinned as she met Delilah in the hallway. 

"Wow, very kind, as always," Delilah felt giddy with excitement having pulled of the plan successfully. As she had suspected, she had encountered a few hurdles, but she now had some rather promising looking files in her grip, which she would look over later on. 

"Everyone is in the back garden to celebrate with Harry. He was acquitted of all charges. Apparently Dumbledore put up a good fight," Tonks informed her as they walked up the stairs together. 

Delilah grinned, "Perfect. I just need to put this back in my room and get changed - this spy gear isn't exactly sunbathing appropriate." 

"Ooh, speaking of things that aren't appropriate, I still haven't told you about how things are going with me and Remus. . ." 

The girls exchanged funny looks with one another before Delilah shut the door to Sirius' old room so that Tonks could spill all of the details in private.

Eventually, the details about chocolate and late night drinking were too much for Delilah to handle. 

"Tonks, you freak, I can't believe he's into that. . ." she shrieked and hit Tonks with a pillow. Tonks blushed profusely and decided that she would wait for Delilah in the garden, giving her a chance to hide the files amongst the bed covers - considering the fact that it was the cleaning task delegated to Delilah, she felt that it was most viable option. 

The garden was no longer overgrown, because Remus had spent the morning cutting it to let off some steam. He was sat on the garden bench with Tonks, who was wrapped up in a cardigan that looked equally as worn out as Remus did. 

"Alright, you two?" She asked, trudging through the clumps of dried grass. She was now accompanied with Alastor, who had bumped into her in the kitchen.   
As much as he tried to deny that it was a coincidence, it was clear to her that he had been waiting around to check that she made it back safely this time. 

He had asked for all of the details, and she even mentioned what had happened to her bad arm to him, but when she pulled up her sleeve, it looked the same as it did the night before. 

"Yes, great evening, isn't it? Why don't you play Quidditch with them lot?" Tonks asked, craning her neck to look at them. 

She was gesturing to the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, who were all laughing at the very end of the garden whilst playing a Quidditch themed game. 

"Oh, come on, I'll only play if you do, Tinkie - " Delilah clasped her hand to her mouth as soon as the nickname had escaped, but it was too late. Remus, who had previously looked tired, seemed to have been brought back to life as he yelled,

"TINKIE?" 

Tonks stood up, and despite her best efforts to look angry, a grin was now imprinted on her face. 

"That's it - me, you - its on." 

Remus was still roaring at the nickname when the rest of the group had trudged over too. 

"What's going on here, then?" George asked mischievously. 

"We're having a proper game of Quidditch, that's what." Tonks said challengingly. Momentarily, it felt like they were just two teenagers on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. 

Delilah stuck out her hand and shouted,   
"Accio broom! Accio Quidditch kit!" Which caused the items to come whizzing out of the house and into her hand.

"Okay, Tinkie, it's on. Your team against mine. Are we picking team mates?" She asked her best friend. 

"Yeah, go on then." Tonks clasped her hands together, turning to Remus to tell him to stop laughing. 

"Of course. Right everyone, line up!" Delilah ordered, which they all did happily. 

"I'll start! Harry, you can be my Seeker. I've heard you're pretty good," Tonks patted him on the shoulder. Delilah settled her eyes on Ginny and gave her a wink. 

"Ginny can be my Seeker. I reckon she could give Harry a run for his money." Ginny walked over and stood by her, which meant that two groups were now being formed. 

Delilah turned to look at Moody, who had settled upon the empty bench, which made her tut. 

"Come on, you!" She raised an eyebrow. Moody, reluctantly, stood up and agreed, but only on the condition that he could be the Keeper. 

Tonks had just picked Ron as her Keeper when Bill and Fleur walked through the back door with Arthur and Molly. 

"Wotchers, you lot! Fancy a game of Quidditch?" Tonks called over to the couples. Molly and Arthur sat out, complaining that they were too old, whilst Bill and Fleur, who were always up for a good competition, practically skipped over and joined Tonks' team as Beaters. 

Fred and George, who towered above the rest of those that remained in the neat line, were picked as Beaters for Delilahs team, because Ginny insisted that they wouldn't be good at anything else. 

"Chasers!" Tonks announced, "Delly and I will both be Chasers for our teams. I just need two more - come on then, Remus, Sirius." 

Remus and Sirius both stood behind Harry, egging each other on over who would be the worst now that it had been years since they had both even watched a game. 

When it was early on in the evening, the sunlight that spilled onto Sirius' hair made it look lighter and filled his eyes to the point where they were almost piercing. When he laughed, his jawline looked chisled and his chest heaved up and down. Delilah wondered if he knew just how ruggedly handsome he was, or if he was blissfully unaware.

"And last but not least - Hermione," Delilah smiled, "will you do me the honour?" 

"Of course - but I've never really played before, and you're still one chaser short," Hermione looked slightly worried as she joined Ginny. 

As much as she tried to plead with Molly and Arthur to take part, the parents weren't budging, so Delilah settled on being one Chaser short. 

The groups lined up against each other, and Sirius, who was the opposing Chaser, looked Delilah up and down. 

"Bring it on, doll." 

Doll. 

Molly, who was used to her own children playing games amongst themselves at the Burrow, declared herself the referee and summoned a whistle so that she could angrily blow it whenever one of the boys pushed or shoved a little too hard for her liking. 

The game was rather intense, and Sirius kept on 'accidentally' knocking into the twins and Delilah.

She spent a great portion of the game catching up with Bill and Fleur before realising that they were just trying to sneakily distract her. 

Eventually they were drawing, which only made Delilah more determined to win - she set her sights on a Quaffle and tried to reach the tree that had been made a temporary 'hoop'. 

Sirius noticed immediately and swooped past, blocking the way. 

"Move it, Black, I've got a game to win here!" She laughed, directing the handle of her broom downwards to try and move past him. He swerved and blocked her again: 

"No can do, I'm afraid. You might as well pass the Quaffle to me now, we both know that team Tonks will win." He grinned mischievously. 

Delilah sighed, "Godric, you can tell that you haven't been playing for a while, can't you? I swear that this is against the rules - " 

She looked for Molly, but the referee was currently barking at Ginny and Harry, who were wrestling away with each other as they tried to catch the golden snitch. 

"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" He challenged, an eyebrow raised. 

"Ooh, you've got no idea, Black. . ." winked Delilah, and she repositioned herself on the broom so that she could direct it upwards, over Sirius, and push the Quaffle into the temporary hoop. 

"She shoots! She scoreeeees!" She yelled, her hands in the air. Sirius took the opportunity to tickle her out of pure sight, and soon they were also on the ground and wrestling each other, in close proximity to Ginny and Harry. 

"Oh, honestly, you lot! You're supposed to be settling an example for your Seekers, not wriggling about next to them!" Molly blew the whistle. 

Delilah tried to pin Sirius on the ground, but his strength overpowered her and eventually his locks dangled down to her face as he pressed both of her hands into the grass. 

"Serves you right!" He bellowed, calling out for Remus to show off his hard work. 

"I didn't realise what a sore loser you were." Delilah grinned. 

"Shut it, you." 

"Eat grass." 

He let her get up off the ground and they watched as Ginny finally lifted her hand up and declared that Team Delly had won. 

Delilah bit her lip and checked to see if Harry was ok, but he in fact looked rather pleased. Perhaps the victory of his trial meant that he didn't expect much else to go in his favour today- or perhaps wrestling with Ginny had been enough to make him happy. 

"Team Tinkie loses," Delilah poked her tounge out at Tonks, who was wiping a sweaty forehead, "but it doesn't matter, anyway - at least we all had fun." 

"And I think that's a good note to leave the game on!" Molly clasped her hands together. She ordered her kids to go and get changed into clothes that weren't muddy, and spelled the broomsticks back into the cupboard that they had been in originally. 

"I let you win, by the way. Its a very gentlemanly thing to do." Sirius bragged whilst brushing grass off of him. 

She decided not to comment on the fact that he had been facing the wrong direction most of the time, and instead spent the rest of the night pecking away at the feast Molly had prepared for them as well as playing Wizarding Chess. She even let Sirius win for good measure - and because she liked seeing him in a good mood. 

Eventually it was just them playing against each other, as everyone had long gone to bed. 

"It was a good day," Sirius concluded as he packed up the box for her. 

"It was indeed. Thank you for all of the fun today - it was definately needed. It's a shame we don't do this all the time," Delilah said, rather straightforward. 

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, the firewhisky in his flask sloshing about as he suggested, "it could be all the time, if you wanted it to." 

"Really?" She asked, hiding the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach. 

"Of course. If only I could take you on a date first. I'm sorry to say that I'm not doing the cheesy shit that Moony did for - " 

" - hey!" Delilah protested, feeling sorry for Remus, "That was a sweet gesture. But I don't need you to wine and dine me. Or do anything, for that matter. This is enough." 

"Yeah," he whispered, lifting his flask to her lips to offer her a taste, "this is enough."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content/trigger warnings:  
> Explicit sex scene, arguing

GRASS STAINS AND fizzy lemonade solely occupied the next couple of days - as well as a harmful handful of bludgers too the face. 

One night was spent snuggled in blankets whilst stargazing, another spent huddled around a fireplace after they had been caught in a hail storm in the midst of a rather angsty Quidditch game. 

They awoke the next morning, finally dry, and were greeted by the annual Hogwarts letters that informed the students of the term dates and required supplies. The letters addressed to Ron and Hermione took Harry by surprise, as he realised that they had been elected as Gryffindor Prefects. 

Whilst Molly distracted the group by looking as if she were about to spontaneously combust, Delilah pulled Harry away after decided that he needed some reassurance: 

"You don't need to feel left out. The only difference is having more responsibility - "

"Exactly, Delly - after all I've been through at school, Dumbledore doesn't even consider me capable of having more responsibility!" He hissed. 

"Perhaps because you already have enough on your plate as it is. You have to understand that Dumbledore - " 

" - no, actually, I don't have to understand Dumbledore at all. If he wanted me to understand him, he could start by looking me in the eye when we are in the same room together." 

Delilah sighed. 

"You could at least be happy for Ron. He's always been in your shadow. He might need Dumbledore's attention too." 

"I am happy for Ron. It just feels like a bit of a kick in the teeth, that's all," Harry insisted, "Hi, Sirius." 

She turned to see that Sirius had joined them, and moved so that herself and Harry were facing him. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Just talking to him about the Prefect situation, Prodfro - " Delilah tried to hide her intense blush. What was it with her letting slip her nicknames for people? 

Sirius seemed to have taken no notice, because he patted his godson on the shoulder and cheered him up by informing him that he and James were never Prefects during their time at school.

"I guess it doesn't really matter," Harry concluded, "Sorry, Delly. We all have a lot on our plate - being a Prefect would probably only make things difficult for me. I'll go and be happy for Ron now." 

"Damn right," she smiled. 

Harry left the two of them alone. Her attention turned to Sirius, who currently smelt of damp cigarettes, firewhisky and sandlewood. 

Thanks to him, everything smelt of that to her now - secret kisses, midnight makeout sessions, long talks whilst sat on the balcony. . . stepping out of the shower and looking in the mirror with a big grin on her face after seeing a bite mark. . . the list went on. 

The tension was now building up between them like bubbles ready to pour out of a butterbeer glass. 

"So," He began, leaning against the doorframe as always. How was he always leaning against a doorframe? 

"So," She added. 

"So," Fred interjected, "are you going to reply to Charlie or what?" 

Sirius turned to see Fred behind him, who was waving an unopened envelope in his hand. It had clearly arrived alongside the Hogwarts letters and been disregarded amongst the chaos that had ensued whilst Ginny and Ron scrambled to collect them first. 

"Wow, didn't realise you were the chief of the Postman Police, Freddie. I'll get right to it," she grinned, snatching the letter from his grasp. 

"Oh, no time for me?" Sirius quiried. 

"What do you mean? Of course time for you. Isn't that what we've been doing this entire time?" She said defensively. 

Sirius looked down at her, and teased, "Don't worry about it, doll. Go write to your little pen pal."

Doll. 

Curse him for taking the excitement out of receiving a letter from her best friend, she thought to herself, and walked out of the room with Fred to give Ron and Hermione a proper congratulations before rushing up to her room to see what Charlie had said. 

ᵈᵉˡˡʸ,  
ʰᵉʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ, ᵐᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ. ʰᵒʷ ⁱˢ ᵉᵛᵉʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ? ᶜᵘʳʳᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿⁱᵃ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵃʳ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢⁿᵒʷʸ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁿᶜᵗᵘᵃʳʸ. ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ, ⁱ ⁿᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵠᵘⁱᵈᵈⁱᵗᶜʰ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ. ʰᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉʳ ˢᵒᵒⁿ, ᵈᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ... ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ, ʰᵒʷ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃʳᵐ? ʰᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ? ᵍⁱᵐᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢʰᵒᵘᵗ. 

ʸᵒᵘʳˢ,   
ᶜʰᵃʳˡⁱᵉ ʷᵉᵃˢˡᵉʸ 

Luckily, Molly was going to be going to Diagon Alley to buy Ron a new broom as a present, so she could have her reply delivered safely. It meant that she could be more open with Charlie about what was going on at Grimmauld Place. . .

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ, 

sᴏʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇᴘʟʏ- ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴄᴛɪᴄ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ. 

ғᴏʀ ᴇxᴀᴍᴘʟᴇ, ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ғᴜʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ɪ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴏ ɪɴғɪʟᴛʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴɪsᴛʀʏ. ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ... ʟᴇᴛs ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ, ɪ'ᴍ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴄʏ ᴛʜᴇᴏʀɪsᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ғᴜᴅɢᴇ. 

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀʀʀʏs ᴛʀɪᴀʟ, ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴜᴅɢᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴇʀɪᴜs ᴄᴜʀsᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ. ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ғɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ... 

ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ. ɪ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ ʜᴇʀᴇ- ʟᴇᴛs ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴠᴇ. 

sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛs ᴏғ ǫᴜɪᴅᴅɪᴛᴄʜ. ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪs ᴀs ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ. sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏғ ǫᴜɪᴅᴅɪᴛᴄʜ, ᴄʜᴀsᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴘᴇғᴜʟʟʏ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴇᴀsʏ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴄʜᴜɴᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ :( 

y̶o̶u̶r̶s̶ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴅᴇʟʟʏ

Having filled Charlie in on almost everything, Delilah placed the letter in a spare envelope feeling satisfied and went back downstairs to find Fred to prove that she had made the effort to write back to him. 

She was met by Molly, who was hectically preparing to throw a party - for 'everyone' - on the staircase. 

"Ah, how lovely, dear. Pop it in my handbag, and I'll take it over to Bill at Gringotts when we go on the last minute school shop." 

"Thank you, Molly. Need any help with anything?" She asked. 

"Nope, nope, I can handle it. I want to see you in your finest outfit, spic and span. Don't disappoint me, girls!" Molly called after them as Tonks accidentally knocked over an umbrella stand further up the staircase, her clumsiness getting the best of her. 

An enchanted jukebox played gentle jazz for the rest of the day, until it turned to evening. Once Sirius and Remus happened upon it, dance music from the early seventies to late eightees began to blast. 

"You spin my head right round right roundddddd - " Remus bellowed. Tonks looked at Y/N and mouthed, 

"He's only two shots in!" 

But before Delilah could reply, Sirius had whisked her off of her chair whilst belting the lines: "All I know is that to me, you look like your lots of funnnnnn!" and spinning her around, "Look, Tinkie, I'm spinning her around like a record!" 

"Crikey, Sirius, how many shots are you on?" Tonks chuckled. 

"Er, none, mate. Watching Remus get hammered is enough to make me want to dance alone." He settled on dancing around with Delilah until it grew dark outside, where he finally gave in and started drinking from his flask until it was empty. 

All was well until he accidentally knocked into her with his refill, and due to it having been barely empty, the spillage that occured down her best outfit left a large whisky - smelling stain, dampening her skin as Sirius clutched onto the flask just a second too late. 

"Shit, sorry, sorry! Here, there's more firewhisky where that came from. . ." He left the room suddenly, so Delilah decided to follow him, amused at how he didn't care for her dress, but instead for the beverage. 

"In the kitchen?" She questioned, confused as to why he was headed upstairs. 

"Nope," he grinned, "my personal stash is located in my old room. I'm surprised that you haven't found it yet." 

"I don't go snooping around, that's why! Come on then, get a move on. I need to get changed." 

"Ladies first, doll." 

Doll. 

Sirius' old room looked the same as it had when she had first arrived at Grimmauld Place. It was almost as if time was at a stand still in that room alone. It gave her a proper glimpse into his past, his teenage self, and she felt rude changing the one place that an innocent Sirius had once grew up. 

"It should be. . ." He trailed off, opening the doors to a wardrobe rather loudly and tossing clothes that were hung up and collecting dust onto the floor. 

"Aha! Behold, the firewhisky." She chimed as he revealed a pristine bottle to her. 

"Open wide." He had popped the lid off swiftly and was about to pour the hot liquid down her again had she not of swerved out of the way. 

"I'm not a baby bird, Prodfro - " 

He raised an eyebrow, taking a large gulp of the alcohol at once before stating, "its been a couple of times that you've accidentally let that nickname slip now." 

She felt herself blush, the feeling of the mixed drinks rushing not to her head but her cheeks, "Yeah, well, um, it's not exactly a nickname for you. It's for mine and Ginnys story."

"Story?" 

"Yeah, when I got nightmares the other night. Oh, Merlin, it sounds pathetic just saying it out loud. But Charlie used to tell me stories, so I asked her to tell me one to help me get to sleep. As a distraction from what was going on around me." She was practically whispering now. 

"Oh yeah?" He asked, taking another big gulp, and then handing the bottle to her so that she could have some for herself. 

"Yeah." 

He was rather close to her now, she noticed. He still smelt of damp cigarettes, firewhisky and sandlewood. It was rather addicting. 

"And it's not actually a nickname for me?" He asked. 

"Well, technically not. The character that's meant to be like me is called Brave, and yours is Prodfrot. Those characters get their happy ending. So make of that what you will." 

"As beautiful as that sentiment is, I have to admit that I'm feeling rather in the mood. You know. . . I can think of another nickname that I could call you, instead." He breathed. 

"And - and what's that?" 

"My little slut," He mused, which made her practically choke on the firewhisky that she had been drinking. Before she could react, he took the drink away from her and rasped, "Muffliato."

His hands dragged through her hair as he pulled on it so that her neck was craned to look up at him properly, "what do we think of that nickname?" 

"I think that I'd have to prove that I am one first," she challenged as he pulled her in for a kiss.

She had to stand on tip toes just to reach him, as his grip of her hair tightened and he pushed her head down slowly until she was on her knees. 

"Go on then, doll. Prove it." He was unbuckling his belt as she wiped the trickling firewhisky from her chin.

Instant butterflies took over her stomach as she watched him looking down on her, waiting for her to do as he had said. 

She pulled his trousers down until they gathered against her knees on the floor, and then his boxers slid down with it. He stroked himself first as she tied her hair back to prepare herself, and she couldn't help but think that he was bigger than what she had remembered. 

He lifted her chin so that she had to watch his reaction as she took him into her mouth, her hands resting against each of his thighs. 

"Come on, doll, you can do better then that - " he said warningly, his grip tightening as he coaxed her on by pushing her mouth further down. She tried not to gag as he decided to take control, gaining speed. 

She wanted to hear him say the nickname, so she flicked her tounge over the tip unexpectedly, eliciting a swirling sensation. He groaned as his grip loosened, her hair falling down slightly. 

"That's right, that's it. Take it all, Delilah." He stifled a groan.

She did as he said and began bobbing her head faster until he pulled her hair, yanking her head away. 

"Good girl," he breathed, as she stood up again whilst unbuttoning his shirt, "But not good enough." 

They kissed passionately until they fell on the bed, which was somewhat springy and still freshly made, seeing as Delilah had spent the past nights in Hermione and Ginnys room again. 

"Sirius," her breath hitched in her throat as he kissed along down it, the warmth that he left behind sending shivers down her spine. 

"What do you say?" He asked through gritted teeth as he rubbed her entrance. 

"Please!" She begged, bucking her hips upwards to try and gain friction. 

Without saying another word, he pushed into her, letting her cry out as the bed creaked beneath them. 

As he had previously, he let her take control until he couldn't handle it anymore, finally pinning her hands above her head as he pumped in and out of her whilst his head rested in the nape of her neck. 

"Ugh, yes," she moaned against him, the feeling of him pressed against her even being too much to handle. 

"Does that feel good?" He asked, as he looked into her eyes to watch her reaction to his pacing. 

She nodded viciously and asked him if he felt alright too, leading him to nod as well, getting distracted as he slipped out of her. 

"No, please. . ." she mused, clinging onto his shoulders. 

"Its ok, doll, just switching the positions." 

He smirked as his body pressed against her whilst he flipped her around so that she was on top of him. It seemed to be his favourite, or perhaps it was just so that he could watch her work away to achieve the nickname that he so desperately wanted to give her. 

She held back a moan as the pressure mounted within her, and suddenly his hips pushed upwards as if to say 'hurry up'. She fell down to kiss him sloppily as she began to ride him, this time, focusing on doing as best of a job as she could. 

"Does that feel good?" She whispered hungrily as she nibbled against his ear. 

"Yes," He grinned, as he placed a hand on her cheek and firmly gripped her leg in another, "my little slut, aren't you?" 

She pressed her sweaty forehead against his, the reward of the nickname being enough to almost push her off the edge. He readjusted slightly as he attempted to pull the covers over them. 

As he was doing so, she closed her eyes as she felt herself nearing an orgasm. 

"Sirius," she breathed, but before she could finally give in, he had stopped. She opened her eyes to see if he was switching positions again, but instead, he was holding something: 

His folder. 

Her face grew as red as it had before they had entangled in the kiss earlier on. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

"Whats this?" His eyebrows furrowed, as he pushed her off of him instantly and held it firmly in his grip. 

It was hard to deny that it was innocently sitting there when it had a photo of Sirius from his azkaban days printed on the front, alongside the title: 

Sirius Black, p.d.e

"Delacroix, what the fuck is this?" He asked again, grabbing her chin to look at her. 

She took a deep breath, but ultimately decided to tell the truth. 

"It's from the Ministry. I found it alongside Fudges file. I duplicated it and brought it back here." She admitted, cursing at herself. She felt sore from not being able to finish, but his face said that he was now focused on anything but what they had just been doing. 

"What did you find?" He raised his voice, but before she could answer, he added, "Godric, I'm really fucking stupid, aren't I? Of course you wouldn't trust me. After all I told you all about my family history, hoping that it would make you realise that I actually care." 

"Stop it, I know how much you care. I don't think badly of you - " 

" - No," Sirius said, his eyes flashing with anger, "you're just another girl who thinks that I'd turn out to be like one of them." He spat, "And you had literally said earlier that you don't go snooping around. Funny that, isn't it?" 

His eyes grew darker as he grew frustrated. 

Delilah now felt angry at how he underestimated her ability to judge him, "I do trust you, you freak. Of course I do. I haven't even looked in the file, actually - " 

" - liar. It's in your sheets - my sheets!" He corrected himself, looking up at the shredded posters on the ceiling above him. 

" - Sirius! I'm not lying to you! I haven't even opened yours yet - or Fudges! I've been distracted over the past few days, so I have no clue what's inside." She let her hair fall down out of its previous updo, trying to find something to do to calm her down. However, his accusations got the best of her and she finally shot out of the bed and said:

"Do you know what, fuck this. You act like I don't trust you, when I've been sleeping in your own house since the day of the first meeting. In reality, it's you that can't trust me! I mean, comparing me to other girls?" She shouted, whilst changing into clean clothes, her skin still sticky from the spilt firewhisky; her hair damp from sweating. 

Then it suddenly dawned on her. 

"Oh," her voice grew quiet as she watched him sat in the bed, "Godric, I'm the one that's really fucking stupid. I'm just like all of the other girls to you, aren't I?" 

All I am to him is another girl, the thought began spinning around the whirlpool of her mind. The very idea was enough to sting her eyes, but she wouldn't let him think of her as weak, so she contained it. 

He looked at her up and down and said, "you sure do act like one." 

"Right." She concluded, searching for her wand whilst sliding her mission shoes on. 

"Where are you going?" He asked furiously as she changed into a warm jacket in front of him. 

"To do my job. I'm clearly wasting my time here, if you think so little of me." 

Sirius chuckled darkly, "Going to see if you can fetch some more files about me now? Going to go and ask the big man himself?" 

"Fuck you," she pointed her wand at him, and he flinched, "Your jealously over my success in The Order doesn't go unnoticed by me. I'm going to go and do something that's actually important - I'll go and do some missions with Moody and Shacklebolt." 

Her pointed wand made him flinch again, and in turn she lowered it, still feeling spiteful. 

She thought back to the conversations that she had had with the two others over the past few weeks. Kingsley Shacklebolt gave good advice, was reliable, and collected swarms of evidence for The Order. 

She didn't need Sirius' stupid file to figure things out for herself. 

She slammed the door behind her only to hear it open straight after again.

"Delilah, wait," he huffed, "Delly, please!"

She didn't turn around, "don't call me Delly - only the people close to me call me that." 

Sirius marched after her, having dressed quickly into a robe, only to have to stop and help Molly along with Remus and Moody, as she had gotten worked up over a Boggart in the hallway. 

He watched as she disappeared down the stairs, and wondered if she meant what she had said.

He didn't mean what he had.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Intentionally a short chapter! Nothing is missing don't worry!)

Two months went past.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

"WOTCHER, BITCHFACE."

"Good morning - " Delilah yawned, " - to you - " she yawned again, stretching her arms out as she did so, " - to you too, Tinkie."

Delilah struggled as her tired eyes adjusted to the brightness of the daylight, having just apparated in front of her bestfriend. Clear skies were above them, which contrasted starkly with the thunderous clouds of dark circles that formed in her inner corners. 

She had not gotten a great night's sleep for two months. 

The absense of Ginny - her gentle singing, soothing smell and her almighty tales of Brave, Prodfrot and Chorley - had wound Delilah up at the Burrow, as she seeked the familiarity and cosiness that she no longer had at Grimmauld Place. 

She didn't realise how empty the place felt when it wasn't occupied by the family that she considered her own. She had only returned once to grab her bags before swiftly storming back out again, and much to Sirius' dismay, he had been too drunk to chase after her. 

The Burrow was familiar - filled with heartfelt memories almost as warming as its crackling fireplaces. 

Until nighttime. 

The back of Charlie's van wasn't exactly comfy. Hard wooden floorboards caused her back to ache, no matter how many blankets she brought from the house to accompany her for watching sunsets and sunrises. The gaps where baby dragons had burnt little holes in the metal - needless to say - did not help, as they left a cooling draft as winter approached. 

And yet, the crooked, beaten up van was where she resided until dawn, pretty much every other day. It had gotten worse recently - a lot worse. One night, she had stayed rooted to the spot as she focused in on the tall fields of grass surrounding the Burrow. She could've sworn that she could see Fudges' beady eyes staring back at her, unblinking, omnipotent. . .

She couldn't remember if it was fabricated from a previous nightmare or not, but it didn't matter. The whirlpool of her thoughts eventually got the best of her caused a distraction. 

The van, strangely, comforted her as well. Not as much as the warmth of the beds inside of the Burrow did. 

She would take herself off to be alone, because being alone was much better than feeling lonely. 

Once the mornings came around, she busied herself by attending as many observational missions as possible, using Harry's invisibility cloak whenever he sent it to her. She had even attempted to sneak into the Ministry offices again, but it was now heavily guarded, and Kingsley had strictly warned her not to risk it until they were well prepared. 

"Your mindset is trying to push you to try things that a happier you wouldn't do, Delacroix." Kingsley had advised her not so long ago. 

She had reluctantly agreed with him, and so she stayed in hiding, biding time. The paths along the rear of Malfoy Manor, or the outskirts of the Ministry headquarters were instead well worn to her. 

"You look rough," Tonks said bluntly, as she handed Delilah a flask of piping hot tea that warmed her hands up immediately. 

"Ghee, thanks, Tinks. Perhaps some lighthearted joking around would be better?" Delilahs voice was peppered with sarcasm. 

Tonks tilted her head, smiling, and said, "What did the dog say to the other dog?" 

". . . I don't know. What?" Delilah asked.

"You look ruff." 

Delilah couldn't help but grin at how silly she was, "ok, you got me. I look it, I feel it, I am it. Bet I'm still better looking than him, though." 

Tonks ran her hand through her hair, the mention of the situation immediately inducing stress. She had adopted the mannerism from Remus, which was something that Delilah couldn't help but notice. The duo even combed their fingers through their locks in similar ways. 

"He was really bad last night, Delly. Like. . . you know. I think he has nightmares too, but he would never admit it." 

She had only mentioned the nightmares to Tonks, Hermione, Ginny and Fred. She didn't want to plague anyone else with her troubles. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. 

This whole charade going on between the two of them had only built up more tension as time went on, but she was reluctant to go crawling back to him to find out how he was doing. Instead, Tonks would fill her in each time that they were doing a mission together, or practicing with Moody.

"It's his birthday tomorrow," Delilah changed the topic of conversation. 

"Yep." 

Tonks took a sip of her own milky tea, her feet shuffling on the muddy grass that surrounded Moodys' run down shack. 

"I got him a present, which you can give to him - oh, don't look at me like that, Tinks! I bought it whilst I was still at Grimmauld Place, alright?" Delilah felt defensive, as she reached to pull the present out of her bag - the one that had been charmed by Hermione to fit a magnitude of things inside simulatenously. 

The gift was shoddily wrapped in brown paper. Delilah had had to rush to wrap it months ago, when she had heard Remus trying to barge into Tonks room, where she had been attempting to hide it. 

"Don't look! Don't look!" 

"Whoopsies! Sorry, sorry, I thought that Tinkie was in here!" He mumbled, his freckles disappearing into the blush that appeared when his new nickname for her left his lips. 

She laughed at his politeness and allowed him in, "I thought that you were Pads. Come on, then, tell me what you think." 

Remus' hazel eyes scanned over the half wrapped gift and gave a sorrowful smile, "Its beautiful. He'll love it." 

Tonks pushed the present away, "Don't give it to me! Give it to him." 

Her mouth turned up at the corners, fully knowing how stubborn that she was being. Yet she hated the idea of it. Would she be confronted by him, or would he be confronted by her? The situation was so messy and downright stupid that she had no idea how to begin repairing it.

"You know that I won't be doing that. But look, it might cheer him up a bit. So you can give it to hi - " 

" - Delly!" Tonks grabbed her friend on the shoulder and shook her, "Snap out of it! One way or another, you'll have to go back eventually. You can't miss that many meetings in a row - " 

" - Tinkie!" Delilah shook her back mockingly, her flask falling on the floor as she did so, "the odds of that happening are very, very, slim."

Tonks looked at her, considering her for a moment. And then her hair turned yellow at the roots - which signified that she had just had a light-bulb moment. 

"I see how it is. The only way that you two will get back under one roof is if I force your reluctant ass. So, Dels, I challenge you to a game of odds on." 

"Odds on? The last time that we played that game was at school!" Delilah laughed, which caused her to recieve a playful nudge, "Ok, ouch, ok. So, if I win?" 

"Then I, as the loser, will deliver the present to Sirius and that'll be it." 

"Ok, you have yourself deal." Delilah narrowed her eyes. 

"Odds on. . ." Tonks trailed off, and then looked towards Moodys shack, "Aha! Odds on, the time that he finally opens the door. Five minutes and under, or five minutes and above. Which one do you pick?" 

Delilah thought to herself for a moment and settled on, "Five minutes and above." 

The girls shook on it and then watched the front door in exceeding anticipation. 

A few minutes ticked away. 

Delilah plucked her flask from out of the mud and muttered, "Aguamenti!" 

A jet of water sprayed out of her wand and cleaned the flask off. When she looked up, the door was creaking open. 

"YES! YES!" Tonks flung her arms in the air, spilling tea on Delilahs sleeve as she did so. 

"Ah!" She gasped at the heat, but also from the realisation that Moody had greeted them in just under five minutes time. 

He looked at them gruffly, a hint of a grin on his face, "Flattered at the reaction, ladies." 

Delilah cast a drying spell on her sleeve and cursed under her breath, "Merlins left testicle." 

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

"GREETINGS, SNUFFLES."

"Good morning - " Sirius yawned, "-ah, shit, fuck," he yawned again, stretching his legs as he did so, "-yeah, you get what I was trying to say, Remus." 

Sirius struggled as his tired eyes adjusted to the brightness of the daylight, having just been awoken by his bestfriend. Clear skies were above them, which contrasted starkly with the thunderous clouds of dark circles that formed in his inner corners. 

He had not gotten a great night's sleep for two months. 

He had settled for sleeping anywhere other than one of the rooms that appeared in his nightmares. Suffice to say, this meant that he avoided the entire house in general. 

His new room reminded him that he could never move on from the past. 

Any other room in the house was horrifically outdated in its decor and reminded him of his equally as horrific mother. 

And his old room. . . well. His old room just reminded him of her. 

During the day, he would stumble from floor to floor, recalling the vivid memories that took place within Grimmauld Places' incommodious walls. 

"I don't understand, mother! I don't understand!" Sirius yelled, as he watched his mother tear one of the posters belonging to his favourite boy band. The one that him and his friends snuck out of Hogwarts to go and watch perform. 

Her glare settled on him, her breathing heavy, "You make me want to wretch! You are a blood traitor! You are shameful to the family tree! To the nobel house of Black!" 

She ripped another poster from the wall, the sticky tape taking some of the wallpaper along with it. The wallpaper that his father had helped him stick up. It had taken a day to do it. 

Tears formed in his eyes, "Fuck you! Fuck you! What have I done wrong? Is being nice to others, treating them justly, so wrong?"

"Don't you dare curse such profanities at me, Sirius, or so help me Merlin!" 

Another ripping sound echoed the room as yet another poster was torn vertically, the members of the band running out of the frame as Sirius' mother cackled. 

"I don't understand!" He yelled again, standing up to try and stop her, but it was no use. 

"If you had a shred of decency, you would be more like your brother. Regulus respects the house of Black, he has earned his place on the family tree-"

"-Maybe I don't want to be on the fucking family tree! Maybe I would rather be anywhere but on it, or here! I would sooner die than spend another night in this wretched house." 

She ripped another poster, "You are utterly diabolical. Where on earth would you go? Who would take you?" 

Sirius wiped a tear from his face and choked, "My friends. My friends will always be there for me." 

"Then by all means, go!" She pointed her wand at him and shot out a defensive spell, "Go!" She yelled, the spell hitting the ceiling and bouncing around the room as he narrowly missed it. It left black marks in its wake. 

With one final "Go!", Walburga Black performed the Cruciatus Curse on him, turned away, and never saw him again. 

That was one of the many memories that came to mind during the day. He could usually cope alright. 

Until nighttime. 

Then, he would lean against the bench in the garden, and stare up at the sky, wishing for a gentler sleep than he had had the night before. When that didn't work, he would turn to the firewhisky, the taste of tobacco still bitter on his tounge. 

Forty or so glasses had gathered together on the balcony, with rain water and dampened packets of cigarettes inside of them. No one bothered to clean after him anymore. 

"You look rough," Remus said bluntly, offering a hand to assist a hungover Sirius up. 

Sirius' voice was peppered with sarcasm as he muttered, "ah, an improvement from yesterday, then." 

He took his friends hand and pulled himself up, taking a moment to find his bearings, and watched as Remus looked at him with his sorrowful gaze. 

"Oh, don't give me all of that, Moony. I'll be fine. I don't have anyone to face anymore, remember?" 

Remus ran a hand through his hair, the very mention of the entire situation being enough to induce stress. His hair was spotted with grey, and his eyes were crinkled at the sides. Remus did this action so often now that it had even rubbed off on Tonks, which was something that even a drunken Sirius could notice. 

"You'll have to face each other eventually. What do I have to do to get you to do something about it?" Remus asked, tucking his hands into his cardigan pockets. 

Sirius thought for a moment and then glumly said, "What, are we going to play some sort of game - flip a coin? Heads or tails?" 

Remus grinned, "If you'll actually do it, then yes, I don't see why not." 

"No, no, heads or tails has a high chance of you winning," Sirius suddenly said, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. 

"Must you be so stubborn?" Remus continued to grin, "Fine, have it your way. A little game of rock, paper, scissors will do." 

Sirius looked reluctant, but gave in, standing opposite to Remus, "If you win, I'll speak to her. If I win, you have to give me your stash of chocolate." 

Remus scoffed, "Why my chocolate?" 

"Because I'm hungry as fuck. Now hurry up." 

Remus chose scissors. Sirius chose paper. 

Remus chose scissors. Sirius chose rock. 

Remus chose paper. Sirius chose rock. 

"AHA! VICTORY!" Remus yelled, grasping Sirius' shoulders and shaking him, "Now go and freshen up, butter cup. You have some apologising to do." 

"Merlins right testicle." Sirius cursed, making his way up to his room. He braved looking in the mirror for the first time in a long time. The person looking back at him no longer had an air of familiarity. They just looked broken. For Delilah, though, he wanted to look okay. He didn't want to scare her away. By the time that he had finally freshened up, and brushed away the smell of alcohol and smoke, he could hear Remus from down the stairs. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He said groggily, assuming that he was talking to him. 

Sirius rushed down each creaking step, only to find that Remus was greeting Tonks and Moody at the door. His heart was beating rapidly as he saw Delilah walk in, shutting the door behind her. 

She was taking a deep breath. She looked nervous too. 

"Hello, Sirius." Moody called, his magical eye settling on him as he stood, feet firmly still, on the staircase. 

"Er - hello, Alastor." 

There was an awkward silence, and then Sirius and Delilah spoke at the same time,   
"I need to talk to you." 

Remus, Tonks and even Alastor couldn't scurry away quick enough. They were left alone in the hallway. 

His heart was beating even faster, still, as she reached into her bag and pulled out something that was wrapped in brown packaging. A gift? Why a gift? 

"For your birthday, tomorrow," she said quietly. Her eyes fluttered down to his hand as she passed it to him, "I'm sorry, Sirius. I really am." 

He didn't quite know what to say. Not because of the apology, but because of the gift. He couldn't remember the last time he had been given a present. Was it his birthday soon? He couldn't remember. 

Delilah turned away, clearly wanting to escape the silence, which was now suffocating, "I understand if you don't feel the same - just, please, open it today. Not in front of me." 

Again, he couldn't quite say anything. His throat still felt scratchy, his head still felt fuzzy, his thoughts still felt clouded. He simply turned around and took the gift back upstairs. 

Alone in his room, he unwrapped it gently, his eyes brimming with tears as he realised what it was. 

A tapestry, emblazoned with the Gryffindor house colours, a frenzy of red and gold fabric woven together to create a beautiful, clean, blank slate, of which empty circles dotted it, forming a pattern. He looked at the note that fell out as he smoothed the tapestry out on his bed: 

ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ, ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴅғʀᴏᴛs ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ, ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ. ɪ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀs. ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ, sɪʀɪᴜs! 

Still clutching onto the note, he wiped away the stray tear and rushed back down the stairs. Ironically, he was too late, yet again: 

Charlie Weasley had burst through the door, and had enveloped Delilah in a hug,   
"Alright, Chaser?" He beamed. 

Delilah laughed, "Alright, Seeker? What on earth are you doing here?" 

"I cleared it with Dumbledore, finally. Have you got your stuff?" He asked, as he went to greet Tonks, who had rushed upstairs from the kitchen, shoving the beans on toast that Remus had now perfected into her mouth. 

"Where are you going?" He asked the man, who looked up at him and said, 

"Romania!"


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, intended to be a short chapter! I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! -R x

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
ᕼOᑭᗴ TᕼᗩT ᗩᒪᒪ IՏ ᗯᗴᒪᒪ. ᗪIᗪᑎ'T ᘜᗴT ᗩ ᑕᕼᗩᑎᑕᗴ TO ՏᗩY TᕼᗩᑎK YOᑌ ᖴOᖇ ᗰY ᑭᖇᗴՏᗴᑎT. ᕼOᗯ IՏ ᖇOᗰᗩᑎIᗩ, ᗷY Tᕼᗴ ᗯᗩY?   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
ᕼOᑭᗴ TᕼᗩT ᗩᒪᒪ IՏ ᗯᗴᒪᒪ. ᗪIᗪ YOᑌ ᖇᗴᑕIᗴᐯᗴ ᗰY ᒪᗩՏT ᒪᗴTTᗴᖇ? I ᕼOᑭᗴ ᑎOT, OTᕼᗴᖇᗯIՏᗴ TᕼIՏ IՏ TᗴᖇᖇIᗷᒪY ᗩᗯKᗯᗩᖇᗪ. ᗯᖇITᗴ ᗷᗩᑕK TO ᗰᗴ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
IՏ ᗩᒪᒪ ᗯᗴᒪᒪ? I'ᐯᗴ ᗷᗴᗴᑎ TᖇYIᑎᘜ TO ᖇᗴᗩᑕᕼ YOᑌ ᖴOᖇ ᗩ ᗯᕼIᒪᗴ ᑎOᗯ. TᕼIՏ ᑭᗴՏKY ᒪITTᒪᗴ Oᗯᒪ ᑕᗩᑎ'T Տᗴᗴᗰ TO ᖴIᑎᗪ YOᑌ. ᗰIՏՏIᑎᘜ YOᑌ, ᗪOᒪᒪ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT 

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
I'ᗰ ᕼᗩᐯIᑎᘜ ᑎIᘜᕼTᗰᗩᖇᗴՏ ᗩᘜᗩIᑎ. ᗯIՏᕼ YOᑌ ᗯᗴᖇᗴ ᕼᗴᖇᗴ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT 

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
TᕼᗴY'ᐯᗴ ᘜOTTOᑎ ᗯOᖇՏᗴ. IT'Տ Tᕼᗴ ᖇᗴᗩᒪᒪY ᗷᗩᗪ OᑎᗴՏ. Tᕼᗴ OᑎᗴՏ ᗯITᕼ ᒪIᒪY ᗩᑎᗪ ᒍᗩᗰᗴՏ. I'ᐯᗴ ᑎᗴᐯᗴᖇ TOᒪᗪ ᗩᑎYOᑎᗴ ᗩᗷOᑌT Tᕼᗴᗰ, ᗷᑌT YOᑌ ᗩᖇᗴᑎ'T ᘜOIᑎᘜ TO ᖇᗴᗩᗪ TᕼIՏ ᒪᗴTTᗴᖇ, ՏO IT ᗪOᗴՏᑎ'T ᗰᗩTTᗴᖇ ᗩᑎYᗯᗩY. ᗯᕼᗴᑎ I ᕼᗩᐯᗴ Tᕼᗴ OᑕᑕᗩՏIOᑎᗩᒪ ᗪᖇᗴᗩᗰ, ᗪOᒪᒪ, IT'Տ ᗩᒪᗯᗩYՏ ᗩᗷOᑌT YOᑌ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
ᖴIᑎᗴ, I'ᒪᒪ ՏᗩY IT. I ᗩᗰ ᗪᗴᗴᑭᒪY, TᖇᑌᗴᒪY ՏOᖇᖇY. ᑭᒪᗴᗩՏᗴ ᒍᑌՏT ᖇᗴᑭᒪY TO ᗰᗴ. ᑭᒪᗴᗩՏᗴ ᗪOᑎ'T KIᑕK ᗰᗴ TO Tᕼᗴ ᑕᑌᖇᗷ. ᑭᒪᗴᗩՏᗴ ᗪOᑎ'T ᗩᑕT ᒪIKᗴ I'ᒪᒪ ᑎᗴᐯᗴᖇ ᘜᗴT ᗷᗴTTᗴᖇ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
I ᑕᗩᑎ ᘜᗴT ᗷᗴTTᗴᖇ, ᑕᗩᑎ'T I?   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
I TᕼIᑎK TᕼᗩT TᕼIՏ ᑕᖇᑌՏTY ᒪITTᒪᗴ Oᗯᒪ IՏ ᗷᖇOKᗴᑎ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT 

TO ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ,   
ᑎᗴᐯᗴᖇᗰIᑎᗪ. ᗰᗩYᗷᗴ IT'Տ ᒍᑌՏT ᗰᗴ.   
-ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT


	19. Chapter Nineteen

TO ANYONE THAT was unaware of what was hidden in the depths of the enchanted Romanian forest, the collective noise of growls, sniffles, yawns and roars would be terrifying. 

But to anyone that was aware of what was hidden in the depths of the enchanted Romanian forest, it was simply the stirring of fantastic beasts as they awoke from their slumber. 

Despite the great distances between the sanctuary workers and where they each slept, Delilah could hear their grumbling and stifling of yawns - a consequence of Torstein, the self elected cook, who was banging a pot and a pan together whilst yelling, "BREAKFAST EVERYONE!" 

His efforts were wasted on Delilah, for she had been wide awake for most of the night.

Whilst the excitement of returning to the sanctuary and the threat of marshmallow stealing pixies were partly to blame for keeping her up, her tossing and turning was undeniably due to the fact that the cluster of letters that the camp received once per day contained the scrawly handwriting of anyone but Sirius Black. 

It had now been one week since Charlie had collected her from Grimmauld Place. She had been hoping to talk to Sirius, properly, before she left for the trip, of which Dumbledore had granted her. 

She had confided in anyone who would listen about everything that had gone on, including about her now healed arm, which Chaser looked rather pleased about. 

"Guess we are linked together forever, huh, Chase?" She laughed as she recounted the tale to the group as they huddled around a fire one night. 

The group reassured her that any mention of Fudge would be reported back to her, and the girls comforted her about Sirius, whilst Charlie had a displeased look on his face as she skipped certain details that she didn't deem necessary. 

Her apprehensiveness of receiving a reply from him was beginning to fizzle out - after staring at the ceiling of the small treehouse for hours on end, she had come to the awful conclusion that his icy silence meant that he had either hated his present, hated her, or both. 

"Oi Chaser!" Called Charlie, who was tapping at the door, "No, Chaser - get down! Get down! Not you, I'm talking to Delly!" 

Delilah shuffled out of the comforting hammock, found her wand, and smiled as she greeted Charlie by opening the door, "I'm up, I'm up, I'm up." 

Charlie had ordered the other Chaser to return back to his pen on the ground and stay put for feeding time. 

"What can I say, the dragons and the ladies can't keep away from me," he mused, ruffling a calloused hand through his ginger mop of hair. 

Delilah grinned, "Er, don't you reckon that giving us both the same nickname has something to do with it?" 

"Oh, come off it, don't ruin the fun," he gave a toothy grin before handing her a cup of tea, "Tonks wrote to me and told me that it was important to make it just right for the weekend extravaganza." 

Delilah took a sip apprehensively, and found that it tasted just like the perfectly crafted cups of tea that Tinkie made at home. Well, almost. 

"Could do with a teeny bit more sugar," she noted. 

"Wow, good morning to you too, sunshine. Not even a thank you!" He joked, as he leant- placing great confidence - on the thick rope behind him. 

The rope in question formed the wooden bridge that was suspended high above the ground, forming a jagged circle that connected hollowed out treetrunks and treehouses together, all of them painted with bright colours to match the rainbow of leaves of the forest. 

The sun was finally peaking through the thick curtain of fluffy white clouds, thereby marking yet another day filled with adventure. 

"As you know, the dragons eat more on the weekends," Charlie noted, as she joined him to look down at the frenzy of colourful dragons that were wagging their tails as they feasted on large buckets of chum and dead ferrets. They looked like tiny dots below them, as did Torstein. 

"HURRY UP! THE FOOD WILL GET COLD!" 

"Race you there," Charlie gestured towards the wooden bridge in front of them. 

"Ok, but I - " Delilah began, but was knocked off of her feet as Charlie pushed her out of the way to get a head start, " - oi! I have to balance a cup of tea - oh, fuck it," she concluded, tossing the cup aside and racing after him. 

With each thud that her feet made as she crossed the bridge to catch up with him, she felt the smile on her face grow wider. 

Charlie was waiting for her, clinging onto the fireman pole that was thirty or so feet tall. It was one of the easiest options of getting down to the ground, the other being the stairs that were carved into a hollowed out treetrunk that stood beside it. 

" - oh, don't you dare!" She glared, as he used his wand to seal a lid to the top of the firepole. She could hear him sliding down it, and looked around desperately for another way down. 

The only thing in sight, apart from the tops of the trees and the bottoms of the clouds, were the bridges and the treehouses. As if she had had a lightbulb moment, she drew out her wand and shouted, 

"Incarcerous!' 

Suddenly, a thick rope was conjured and looped around the firm wooden planks of her feet. With no time to waste, she grabbed a hold of it and swung down towards the ground, the dragons looking up from their food to watch her with great curiosity. 

Her feet had planted firmly on the ground before Charlie's had. 

"Suck on that, Weasley!" Delilah flipped her hair and tucked her wand back into her garments. The palms of her hands itched from the burn, but it was worth it to see his face. 

"And she beats you once more, even with a mangled arm," Torstein chuckled, "So, if my calculations are correct. . . that's the fifth time this week?" 

"Not if we are counting the races at dinner time," Charlie argued, "and her arm ain't mangled," but he was grinning. He liked competition, especially against someone who was eager to go unbeaten. 

Delilah sighed, "We aren't, I'm afraid. My statement remains true: suck on that." 

"Suck on my fist," he grinned, balling his hand into a fist and waving it in the air. 

"Suck on my food." Torstein huffed, shoving two plates in their directions, "It took me ages to prepare it." 

"As you wish, Torstein. Thank you," Delilah took a seat at a severed log and watched as the dragons finished off their breakfast. 

Charlie chewed rather loudly as he walked back and forth, waving to sanctuary workers as they crossed the bridges far above his head. 

"Xerxes! My man! Are you participating in the weekend extravaganza?" Charlie said rather loudly, waving to a mere dot of a man who looked to be combing his hair. 

"What? I can't hear you, Weasley!" Xerxes said, louder. 

"I SAID," Charlie swallowed a mouthful of beans with a huff, "ARE YOU PARTICIPATING IN THE WEEKEND EXTRAVAGANZA?" 

Xerxes chuckled and yelled back, "WHEN ISN'T THERE A WEEKEND EXTRAVAGANZA? LETS PARTY!" 

A door ahead of the man swung open, and Aillard, who donned hair almost as flaming red as Charlie's, shushed them furiously, "Can you two be quiet? I'm trying to sleep!" 

"AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED, ALLY! WILL YOU PARTICIPATE IN THE WEEKEN - " 

"Charlie Weasley, I will feed you to my dragon if you don't shut up!" Aillard huffed, leaning over the ropes to look at him, "But yes, of course I will." 

Charlie grinned triumphantly, handing his plate over to Torstein and thanking him for the food, "Let the weekend commence - no work, all play. Will you parti - " 

" - Merlins right testicle, Seeker, if you utter the word 'participating' one more time, it will be your last," Delilah warned him, "What exactly do you have planned, anyway?" 

During summer, the group spent days camping around crackling fires, souring across snowy mountains with the dragons and singing along to the tune of Torsteins guitar, and yet Charlie had never labelled those days as extravagant. Whatever he had in store sounded like a perfect distraction from Sirius and his lack of letters. 

"Climb up that little rope of yours and fetch some clothes that you don't mind. . . getting muddy. Oh, and get your swimming costume, too." 

Charlie's eyes glimmered as she handed him her empty plate and walked back towards the rope, before deciding to use the stairs instead. 

Once dressed and prepped for what she could only assume to be a busy day ahead, she met the group back around the ashes of what was the blazing fire of the night before. Charlie had easily persuaded ten or so others to join them, although Torstein opted out, instead staying behind to watch other the dragons and camp. 

The group trudged along the twig ridden floor of the forest, edging deeper and deeper, the hill growing steeper. It did not take long before they reached a patch of hill that was sticky with mud. Delilah could make out the pawprints belonging to animals that she didn't even know. 

"We've arrived," Charlie said, his chest heaving having challenged yet another person to a race. 

"I hope that this is what I think it is," Aillard clasped their hands together, "You forgot to bring the pool floats, Charles." 

"I can't believe that you would accuse me of such a thing," he scoffed, as he reached behind a tree and revealed the pool floats in question. He used his wand to inflate them - a giant dragon shaped one, a unicorn, and a flamingo, which had a great long neck that looked muddy from a previous escapade. 

Delilah put two and two together and realised what they were about to do, and almost as if they could read her mind, Aillard took her hand and yelled, "EXTRAVAGANZA TIME!"

Everyone selected a float to share and piled in, and once Charlie had squished in next to her, smudging mud all over her side, the floats took off, speeding up as the mud slid around below them. 

They narrowly missed the small trees and crashed into the large ones, although this merely created a bouncing sound, spinning the groups around as they waved their hands as if it were a rollercoaster ride. 

The hill was now so steep that it felt like they were simply dropping down, and Delilah looked to see where they would land, clutching onto Urbana, a Greek goddess of a women, who was part veela and insanely good at training dragons. The float was spinning so violently that she could not tell left from right, so she soon gave up and grinned as the speed picked up once more after bumping into yet another tree. 

The float, caked in mud, took off of the ground as the hill curved upwards, and they burst into fits of giggles as they prepared for landing. 

Delilah clutched onto the neck of the flamingo, and found herself plunging into clear water. Her head emerged and she opened her eyes to discover that everyone, along with the beaten up floats, had landed in a blue lagoon that was settled in a clearing in the forest. 

"Godric," Delilah grinned, as Charlie scooped her up and onto his shoulders so that she could see everyone. 

"All ok?" Xerxes asked, ringing his mud soaked shirt into the water. 

"Never better," Charlie grinned. He dunked himself under the water suddenly, causing Delilah to thrash about as she lost her balance, and tried to wrestle him as he swam away. 

The group spent the rest of the morning doing laps of the lagoon, apologising to a group of toadstalls that complained about the amount of water being splashed in their direction, and then lounging around as the sun made an appearance. 

She was resting on the side of an upturned float when she was plunged back into the water again, but instead of it being due to Charlie, it was due to Chaser. 

"Holy smokes, why is he here?" She gasped for air, climbing on top of him to calm him down as he wriggled excitedly. 

"Thought I would bring him down whilst I brought you all lunch," Torstein shouted, as he skirted around the sandy perimeter of the lagoon. 

Its water had now returned to a turquoise abyss, and Chaser, whos scales were dark purple in colour, looked even more majestic as he cooled down and began to swim. 

"Go easy on me, buddy," she cooed, patting the side of him, "after what you did to my arm, I think I deserve it." 

"Legend," Aillard said to Torstein, as they pushed out of the depths of the water and flicked their red hair, accepting a sandwich and settling on a small mound of grass that was absent of toadstalls.

"Ooh, did you bring your guitar?" A younger boy, who looked to be around Rons' age and height, grinned.

"Yeah, Osgood, I did," Torstein said, waving the guitar, that was slightly burnt at the end. He placed the large picnic basket on the ground and used his wand to roll a picnic blanket a few feet above the lagoon. 

It was large enough to seat everyone who had accompanied Delilah and Charlie, and stayed rigid as the witches and wizards apparated onto it, lolling about and eating the rich delicacies that Torstein had prepared for them. 

The sun was soon dipping behind the blanket of clouds again, and Torstein strummed the guitar all the while, soon playing Muggle songs that Osgood had picked up on his worldly travels, which she found fascinating.

After one round of the song, the group had picked up on the lyrics and now sung them to their hearts content, no matter how strangled they sounded. 

"Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you," Osgood belted, which made everyone laugh. 

" Well, holy moley, me oh my, you're the apple of my eye, girl, I've never loved one like you," Torstein added, his fingers brushing each string gently, like a gentle hum as the sky grew orange. 

"Man, oh man, you're my best friend  
I scream it to the nothingness  
There ain't nothing that I need," Aillard added sweetly, as they gave Xerxes a tight squeeze. 

They looked at Xerxes, who stood up with his hands on his hips and put on a thick country accent as he sung, "Well, hot and heavy, pumpkin pie  
Chocolate candy, Jesus Christ  
Ain't nothing please me more than you!" 

Everyone laughed as Torstein strummed away, and soon they were all dancing, the picnic food all eaten, and the blanket slowly bobbing up and down. 

"I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark! Girl, I've never loved one like you!" 

Charlie beamed as he swept his locks out of his face and tied them up, revealing his freckled complexion.

"Moats and boats and waterfalls  
Alleyways and pay phone calls  
I've been everywhere with you!" 

"That's true!" He mouthed, as he let her move on to dance with Urbana, although she kept her eyes on him, his charm oozing as he continued to belt his words, without a care in the world: 

"Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night, never could be sweeter than with you, and in the streets you run a-free, like it's only you and me...Godric, you're something to see!' 

Chaser was sleeping softly on the grass below them, and as the song came to an end, Delilah grabbed Urbanas hand and jumped into the water, craving the feeling of doing whatever she pleased. 

The sky grew darker. The group cheered as Urbana and Xerxes kissed, which made Charlie yelp,   
"WEEKEND EXTRAVAGANZA!" 

"Way to crush the mood, Seeker," Delilah nudged him. 

"My comment about my fist still stands," He nudged her back playfully. 

The group were worn out by the time that they reached the sanctuary again, and they lit each firepit quickly.

Although the clouds were long gone, the sky was littered with glimmering galaxies. The sight in front of her was much more beautiful: witches and wizards as they comforted the dragons that were snoozing away.

All of them from different walks of life, all of them with different stories to tell, and all of them with difficulties and struggles. Yet, when together, none of it mattered. What mattered most were the moments like these. 

"Still cold?" Delilah asked Charlie, who was practically passed out on a log. 

"Freezing my tits off," he yelped, as he stroked the nose of Chaser. 

"I'll get some blankets, if you have any?" She asked, her neck craning to watch as the stars twinkled above them. 

"In my treehouse," he grumbled, the sound of the spluttering fire almost drowning it out. 

Too tired to apparate, she walked slowly to his treehouse, which was a bridge and a half away from her own, and slightly higher up. The humming of the sanctuary workers, who she now considered close friends, could be heard far below her. She pushed open the door, which creaked slightly, and cast, "Lumos!", not wanting to spot a pixie again. 

A cluster of blankets lay in a heap in the corner, which she gathered in her hands, trying to find as many as she could. 

She stopped to admire his bookshelves, crammed with the cracked spines of dragon studies and tales, old textbooks and, oddly, a bundle of letters. 

She summoned them into her hand and squinted to read the writing of each one. 

There were only nine of them.

They were all addressed to her. 

They were all, unmistakably, the handwriting of Sirius.


	20. Chapter Twenty

A FURIOUS BLUSH crept over his face, consuming the freckles that littered his high cheekbones, "I can explain!"

"I don't want an explanation, Charlie!" Delilah desperately clambered to snatch the letters back from him, "I want my letters back!" 

He scoffed, "No, not until you calm down! Listen, I was going to give them to you - " 

" - perfect," she grunted, "Now's your chance." 

She stopped and reached her hand out, gesturing for him to return them. However, he took the lack of an attack as a chance to run in the other direction, jumping over the fence of the pen belonging to Chaser and hiding them behind his back. 

"Delly, please, just - " 

" - give me the fucking letters, Charlie." She tried to summon them but it was no use - she was too tired, and his grip was too strong. 

She began walking towards the fence, and whilst he warned that she shouldn't enter in case she spooked the dragon, she ignored him and climbed over it. He, in turn, walked backwards to gain a distance. 

"I didn't open any of them - I was just saving them up," He said calmly, "Because you were happy this week, Dels, so happy, for the first time in months. . ." 

"Yeah?" She said quietly. 

He waved the letters and finished, "And I have no clue what these say." 

Delilah edged towards him, the stress causing her to run a hand through her hair. Remus and Tinkie's faults. 

"I don't need you to protect me, Charlie." 

"I know. I just wanted to try, for a little longer," he muttered, which earnt an 'aw' from one of their friends, who were craning their necks to watch them. 

"Whilst I've been happy, Charlie, he might of been miserable. He thinks that that's because of me. As a member of the Order, you've promised to not only protect me, but to protect everyone. That includes him, and right now, there are letters that he needs me to read." 

Whilst she spoke, she had now edged close enough to be standing in front of him, and as she finished her sentence, she made a dive for the letters. Suddenly, the duo were pushing and shoving each other underneath the meadows of stars above them. 

Just like how they used to during Quidditch practices. Just like how they used to during rainy days at the Burrow. 

"Delilah!" He pried the letters away from her, and they went flying in the other direction. Neither of them took any notice: they were now too focused on winning the fight. 

"Charlie!" She replied, kicking his knee which caused him to buckle over and fall into the mud. He, in turn, used his foot to yank her to the ground, and suddenly she was caked in mud too, which felt cold as it pressed against her skin. 

They scrambled for a good minute and a half before they heard gasps behind them. 

Both of them looked up to see Xerxes, Aillard, Urbana, Torstein and Osgood pointing to the sky. 

The bundle of letters were falling into the distance due to a simple flick of Chasers tail, who was running circles around Charlie and Delilah as they wrestled one another. 

"Merlins-" "Merlins-" 

"-testicles." 

Delilah paused and got up quickly, to try and fixate on where exactly the letters had landed. It would be a long walk to retrieve them, and the darkness was unsettling. All of her nightmares consisted of this very moment: being alone, looking for something, and feeling Fudges beady eyes crawl over her. 

Charlie stuck a hand out, wanting her to pull him up, but she ignored him, still annoyed, and gave Chaser a sympathetic pat on the nose before marching out of the pen. 

"You aren't going to - " Urbana asked, her mouth agape. 

"Yes, yes I am," Delilah concluded, heading in the general direction of the letters. 

What if Sirius needed her? What if he was upset? What if he had gotten hurt? 

No one bothered to stop her, clearly considering that her determined look proved that she wouldn't give up until she was reading the contents of all nine letters.

The colourful trees enveloped her as the twigs of the forest floor snapped with each step she took. She turned once she heard footsteps behind her. 

"You aren't going alone," Charlie looked at her worryingly, using his wand as a light to guide them as the forest grew thicker. 

"Wow, thanks for being so considerate." She spat, using her wand to point her in the right direction. 

"Ugh, please, just hear me out. I. . . I don't know much about him. But if the truth lies in what Tinks has told me during the past few months. . . then he is a broken person, Dels - " 

" - I don't think that I can fix him, Charlie, I'm not stupid," She looked at him, "But I can be there for him whilst he fixes himself." 

He nodded with a gulp, "Good. Good. I just worry that - " 

" - that what?"

He huffed and took her by the shoulders, looking deep into her eyes, "I worry that if you read those letters, we will never finish the conversation that we had before you left to join the Order." 

Her mouth fell open slightly and she whispered, "About us being soulmates?" 

"Yes. Listen, I think I've figured it out. But I just need to be sure. Tell me. . . tell me what you love about me." 

She lowered her wand, her chest heaving as she tried to gain her breath, her forehead slick with sweat and her clothes slick with mud. 

"I love the adventures that we go on. I love the dragons, and the crackling fires, and the Quidditch practices that we used to have in the rain. I love the singing, and the dancing, and the travelling. I love. . . oh, Godric, I loved it when we got lost in the mountains that one time." 

She laughed just at the image of it - running down the steep mounds of snow as a mountain troll angrily chased after them. 

He grinned, "Yeah, I'm lucky to have all ten fingers after that." 

"Me too." 

"Now tell me what you love about Sirus." 

"I. . . I love his hair. I love how he uses his wand to tie it up in a bun, and I love how it falls to his shoulders each time he reaches to use it. I love his smile, and his laugh - he gasps for breath each time that he laughs - and when he gasps, his eyes twinkle. But he only gasps when someone says something sarcastic and rude, which I love, because that's my sense of humour, too. . ." 

She trailed off as she thought about all the times she had spent with him, when things had been good. They were like fuzzy, yellow memories, all warming her chest and making the sides of her mouth curl upwards. 

Like. . . like the night that they had all gotten drunk together, and they were in stitches having caught Remus and Tinkie in the act. 

"Goodnight, Pad - " 

"Sh!" 

"Wh - what?" She grinned sheepishly, as he took her arm and pulled her closer to the shut door. 

"Listen, doll." He whispered, his eyes crinkling at the sides as the pants of Remus and Tonks reached her ears. 

"Merlins beard, Sirius - is that?" 

"Yep." 

"We can hear you!" Tonks called out, throwing a pillow at the door. 

Sirius took Delilahs hand and spun her around, and grinned, "Sorry, guys, we didn't mean to ruin the mood. Here, here - let me sing for you." 

"Padfoot, I swear - " Remus said, although it came out as a strangled noise as Sirius cut him off with his own strangled singing. 

"Tonight the music seems so loudddddd, I wish that we could lose this crowdddddd!" 

"How fitting," Remus growled, "I wish that I could lose this crowd indeed." 

"Delilah," Charlie waved a hand in front of her, "Anything else?"

"Er - yes. I love. . . how his smell lingers on everything. And, ooh, I love that whenever I ask why, he replies with 'why not?'" she had to fight back tears as Charlie wiped the mud from her cheek, "He does care, Charlie. I know that he does. I know that he can get better. I wish that I could tell him." 

"Well, I think that we have our answer." 

"To what?" 

"Delly, I believe that we are soulmates in the same way that pineapple belongs on pizza," he gave a reassuring, toothy grin. 

Her face screwed up, "It doesn't belong on pizza at all." 

"Exactly," he nodded, "We don't belong together, at all. But we are both perfect in our own right, and maybe, in another life, we would belong together. You aren't in love with me, you are in love with the idea of me. And I, as the pizza, want you to embrace all of your sweetness and share it with someone who needs it in their life. I don't need sweetness - I need salt!" 

"We are still talking about soulmates, right?" She laughed, wiping a tear from her face. 

"You are my greatest friend, you are the place that I call home, and this inner conflict that we have had since school has only been because everyone tried to force us together. I love our adventures, and I love the mountains, and I love the dragons, and I love the feeling of wind as it rushes in our hair - and - and I never broke my promise, Delly, remember?" 

She did, indeed, remember. He was referring to the time that he had told her what made him feel excited. The last time she had recalled it, she had been dying. This time, she never felt more alive: 

"Imagine this feeling, but on the back of a dragon. That, my friend, would excite me." 

Delilah closed her eyes and imagined it. He was right - it sounded magnificent. 

"I'm imagining it." She told him. 

"Good. One day, we can do all the things that excite us, together." 

"You kept your promise, Seeker. And now I understand what you mean - my youth is yours, and it always will be. But my heart is his." 

Instead of fighting, they were now hugging each other. He pressed his face against her hair and held onto her tightly. She was so brave, almost too brave, even for him. 

His desire to protect her was futile - the woman that stood before him no longer needed protection. 

And he smiled, because she might not of realised it yet, but he knew - that he had finally watched his soulmate grow up to be the person that she had always wanted to be. 

"He's your next exciting adventure. So, come on then, bitchface." 

He let go of her from his bear hug, and the twigs crunched below him as he trailed towards the letters again. 

"Only Tinks can call me that." 

He laughed, "ok, fine. Come on then, pineapple." 

Her hands brushed the gentle leaves of the forest as she winded through the maze of grand trees. They towered so high above her and she could not see the tops, and the trunks were soon so wide that it would take minutes to circle around them. 

A blue glow emitted from the moon, but also from giant, peculiar mushrooms, where tiny pixies fluttered to and fro - scooping small marshmallows into their mouths. 

Charlie had to flick the pesky creatures away as they searched the duo's pockets for the pillowy treats, which made them both laugh. 

As they continued to walk, they came across the same wandering toadstalls that had once been rooted to the ground at the blue lagoon. They were awoken by their sniggering laughter, and scurried away as her wand began to rattle. The 'point me!' that she had cast earlier was now either wearing off, or indicating that they were nearing the letters. 

Charlie's presence was enough to distract her from feeling watched, and it was enough to reassure her that things would be alright, in the end. 

"Delilah!" He stopped his sniggering and pointed up, her neck craning as far as it could. Somehow, he had spotted the letters, that were scattered and bruised looking, amongst the thick branches of the tree that boomed ahead of them. 

"Well, if we hadn't upset those pixies, they might of fetched those for us." Delilah sighed, trying to think of what else they could do to retrieve them. 

"Give me a boost?" Charlie nudged her, and her eyebrows furrowed at the very mention of his idea. 

"Very funny, Weasley." 

"Well, I don't suppose that you have a better idea?" He crossed his arms. 

"Perhaps. . ." she trailed off and looked at the mushrooms that were dotted around them, "we could use them as a boost?" 

Charlie nodded, and without thinking, he stepped onto one of them and tested the bounce that it gave. 

"Yeah, do you know what, it might do." 

"Right, I'll cast a locomotor, and you can use that mushroom as a boost to get the letters." 

"Well, it was a nice life," he said sarcastically, pretending that the idea would cause a fatality. 

"A minute ago you said how badly you wanted to protect me. Unless you've changed your mind, and want me to go instead?" She said dryly, apologising to a toadstall that buckered with her, and brushing a pixie away from her pocket. 

"No, no, as Dumbledore once wisely said, 'Charlie, you're so impeccably good looking, and if you ever needed to retrieve letters from a tree using a mushroom as a boost, I propose that you could do just that.'" 

"Funny that," she grinned, "He said the same thing to me once, too." 

"Damn," Charlie patted his leg, "Here I was thinking I was special. Right then, we have a weekend extravaganza to return to, so you best hurry." 

The duo worked together to retrieve each letter, that was now severely crumpled. She tucked them away safely, and raced Charlie back to the sanctuary, where the group were eagerly anticipating their return. 

"Hello, you lot," Delilah gave Urbana a hug - she looked rather relieved. 

"Are you. . . OK?" Urbana asked her, her honeysuckle voice laced with concern. 

"Oh, yeah, Chorley and I sorted it all out." 

"Yeah, pineapple and I are good. Wait - what did you just call me?" He frowned. 

"Better question - what did you just call her?" Torstein asked, as he turned his smore around on the fire. 

"It's a long story," Charlie laughed, giving Delilah a wink, "say, Torstein, how many marshmallows do you have spare? There's some pixies that have been clawing after us, and I'm feeling rather generous." 

The group spent the rest of the night testing who could lob the pink and white treats into the rainbow forest. The twinkling of the pixies in the distance as they waved to thank them meant that it had been a success, and soon, they collapsed around the camp, tired from the long day that they had spent together. 

Tomorrow would be the last day, and then, back to reality. Somehow, Delilah felt that a greater adventure was awaiting her. She only hoped that Sirius would be in for the ride.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot will now (in terms of both timeline and storyline) differ drastically from the books/movies!

TOMORROW WAS NOT the last day.

In an unpredicted turn of events, the weekend extravaganza was disrupted by a sudden and unforgiving snowstorm, that had trapped the sanctuary and its workers with no forms of communication, and no ways of getting out. 

The thick and fluffy carpet of snow rather pleased Chaser. Being only a baby, he had never seen snow before and had taken to running around in it all day long, leaving swirls of prints and a jagged line as his tail dragged behind him. 

He was rather displeased when the other dragons would use their flaming breaths to melt it away. 

Whilst one would think that having dragons with such capabilities would be a benefit in such a situation, Delilah soon discovered that it was actually the opposite. The snowstorm would simply recover the ground merely minutes after a dragon had cleared it, and all of the magical beasts feared flying in the harsh conditions. 

The toadstalls had frozen over; the pixies stopped arriving to hunt for marshmallows, and suddenly they had been plunged into a bleak winter. 

Weeks passed since the night that she was supposed to arrive back at Grimmauld Place, and she had been having nightmares ever since.

Nightmares containing those same beady eyes, the same dark voice, and the same caliginous office. The blood seeping from the walls, and the screaming in the distance. . . 

There was no Ginny to turn to, so instead Delilah would carefully cross the bridges so as not to disturb anyone, and then creep into Chasers pen. Whilst he did not share a comforting smell of treacle tarts and flowers - he smelt of fireworks and mud - she settled for his equally as endearing charm. 

"Sh!" Delilah hissed at Chaser, who had immediately captured her and began to lick her face, "Ok, ok, good boy! Eek - good boy, Chaser! Get off, you great big lump." 

It was the early hours of the morning, so he was the only other one awake. 

"How about a little walk, mate?" She asked him, patting him on the nose, "Just us kids." 

He followed her eagerly, bashing into barrels of water and knocking icicles that hung from the wooden fences as he did so. 

"So, yeah, same old nightmares. What about you? Did you get a good sleep?" She asked, as she used her wand to collect firewood from the forest floor. 

He huffed. 

"Oh, really? Wow, very interesting." She replied, "Is the pen uncomfy or something?" 

He huffed again, his breath escaping into the air in the form of steam. 

"I totally understand," Delilah grinned, "I'm taking you out to stretch your legs now though, aren't I? If you've got an issue with the pen, you should speak to your father about it." 

Chaser whined softly, his purple eyes scanning the snow for any scurrying animals that he could find. 

"Speaking of Charlie," She swivelled around so that they could head back to the sanctuary, "Lets go find him." 

She stood still, waiting for him to turn around, but he did not. 

"Come on, Chaser, I haven't got all day!" 

Another huff. 

"Merlins testicles, I know that the pen is uncomfortable, but it ain't that bad," Delilah stroked the dragons curved spine, his scales slithering underneath her grip. 

He looked up at her and towards her bad arm. 

"Aha! Yes, you see. . ." she pulled her sleeve up. Each snowflake that landed on the inky scar melted from the contact, "This is uncomfortable! And guess who gave it to me? Yeah, thats right, bitchface. You did." 

She tapped the scar, and he shook his body in return. Delilah frowned at his response, and she did it again, her fingers tracing the swirling abyss of purple that ran deep across it. The dragons body would twitch in return. 

"Guess we are linked together forever. . ." she whispered, recalling what she had once told him. 

He sniffed the scar and then looked up at her, as if to say 'I don't see the problem?' 

"Yeah, well," She scoffed, pulling the sleeve down and marching ahead, "You aren't the one that has to live with it, are you?" 

She made a few large strides, the wood clinking along behind her, but Chaser stayed put. 

"Ok, look," She whined, "I'm sorry for picking a fight with you, Chaser. But I'm freezing. The scar is fine - I think that it looks pretty badass, anyways. If we truely are linked by this, then you can make up for it by looking out for me, yeah?" 

Chaser nodded, and began- painfully slowly - catching up to her. 

She used her hand to form a snowball and waved it at him, "Will this make you hurry up? Look, Chase - look! Fetch!" 

She hurled the ball in the direction of the sanctuary, and he responded like an excitable toddler as he rushed after it. 

Back at the camp, Delilah started a fire and was met by Aillard, Xerxes and Torstein, who were eating breakfast inside one of the treehouses. 

They spent some time making snowballs for Chaser to attempt to catch, and spent even more time comforting him each time that he accidentally melted one. 

Eventually, Charlie yelped as he waved something in the air in the distance. 

"What is it?" Delilah yelled, standing up and squinting. 

The wooden bridge shook as he ran across it and down the staircase of the hollowed-out tree. 

"Letters! Fucking letters! There are owls, and they're delivering letters!" He yelled back, which earnt cries from the others as they met him halfway to grasp them. 

"For you, for you, for you." Charlie was saying repeatedly, as he dished each envelope out to those that they were addressed to. 

"Remember, they'll be a bit of a backlog," Torstein said sternly, "So some of these might be old news." 

Delilah opened one from Dumbledore: 

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚑,

𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝. 

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜. 

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢,   
𝙳𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 

It dated back a month ago. There were others - from Ginny, the twins (that simply said "you better still be getting us Christmas presents), Hermione, Remus, Tinkie. . . one from Harry, which she ripped open immediately: 

𝐷𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑦,   
𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒. 𝑆𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑝𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑛. 

𝑊𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝐷𝐴𝐷𝐴 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝑈𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑔𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝐻𝑜𝑔𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 

𝑅𝑜𝑛, 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.

𝐺𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑡𝑜𝑜? 𝑂ℎ, 𝐺𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦. 

𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠?  
𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦

Visions? Was Harry now having visions, too? 

Before she could fully digest what she had read, Aillard had disrupted her train of thought: 

"Godric," Aillard said, as she finished reading a letter that Charlie had given to her. 

"What is it?" Delilah asked, her neck craning to read it. 

"Well, you all know what this means, right? Owls are flying again, letters are being delivered - the conditions are easing up, just a little," Aillard noted. 

Delilah gulped and looked at Charlie, who seemed to understand and nodded, "We need to get you back. Now." 

It felt strange to be leaving, but she had no choice: she had her job to get back to, the people that she called family, and if she didn't go now, the winter would only persist. 

She began with tearful goodbyes to the workers. Not truely knowing when she would see them again, she chose to cling onto the hope that soon, everything would return to normality, leaving them the chance to sing around campfires and adventure into the depths of the enchanted forest once more. 

Then, she said goodbye to the dragons, each of them roaring as if they understood that she would not return for a long time. 

Next, she made one last loop through the treehouses, packing up her things into her tiny bag and leaving Sirius' letters behind. 

Finally, she braced herself to say goodbye to Chaser, who nuzzled her and purred like a little kitten at her touch. 

"Remember that you still owe me a favour," She whispered, "Be a good boy for me, okay?" 

With that, Charlie took her back to the Burrow, which seemed like an entirely different planet to the duo now. The lights were on, and they were bundled up. Charlie had to put up a fight to get the dragon that they had travelled on into his van. 

"I can't stay for long," He said apprehensively, "Wouldn't want to keep the poor sod in there any longer than it has to be." 

The door to the Burrow flung open before they even had a chance to knock - Molly Weasley ushered them inside, checked them all over, and then embraced them in the tightest of hugs. 

"Thank Merlin you're safe," She breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

"Missed you, Mum," Charlie squeezed her back, "How is everyone? Where are they?" 

"Well. . ." Molly said tearfully. 

She explained to them, to the best of her ability, everything that the duo had missed out on since their trip to Romania had began - including Hagrids unsuccessful trip to the mountains, and how Ginny had become Gryffindors new seeker - and then, she finally told them about how Harry had been having strange visions whilst at Hogwarts. 

"What do you mean, a vision about a snake attacking Dad?" Charlie fumed, "He's ok, isn't he? Godric, Mum, where is he - " 

" - he's at St Mungos. I wanted to tell you before you got here, but I've been panicking ever since. The Healers say that he is suffering from severe venomous snake bites - although it doesn't take a genius to figure that out, honestly - " 

" - can we go there now?" Delilah asked, her voice trembling. It was all a lot to take in. The Ministrys infiltration of Hogwarts, the progress that the Order had made. . . and she hadn't even asked anything about Fudge yet. 

"Of course, dearie," Molly ushered them to the fireplace, "We'll use the Floo." 

Delilah turned to Charlie apprehensively, "Don't you need to head home?" 

"I have to see him first," Charlie said through gritted teeth. 

St Mungos was just how Delilah had remembered it. Although on a completely different ward to where she had been during her stint in hospital, Arthur couldn't help but joke despite his grave condition:

"Oh how the tables turn," With a lopsided grin. 

Delilah gave him a hug and then one to each of the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. She was saddened to see that Percy hadn't bothered to show up, and that his knitted jumper had been discarded on the floor, which seemed to upset Molly as soon as she layed eyes on it. 

They spent some time eagerly chatting, watching as Arthur had to swallow some awful looking potion - Fred and George chanting "Shots, shots, shots!" as he did so - and then, Arthur beckoned Charlie to eat a slice of his birthday cake. 

Charlie's birthday had been sandwiched between their time spent in Romania, and whilst they had heavily celebrated it over there, Charlie seemed eager to have what was left of the homemade cake. 

"Where is the rest of it?" Charlie questioned to nobody in particular. 

"Ronald felt a bit peckish one afternoon," Molly nudged Ron, who shrugged, "Sorry, Charlie." 

"It's alright, mate," Charlie chuckled into the fork full of cake, "I'm sure that what's left of it will be delicious."

One bite, however, and his face turned a vivid, sickly green. 

Delilah did not have to look at Fred and George, who were sniggering, to know that they had delivered on their promise to slip a Puking Pasty into his birthday cake. 

"You fucktards!" Charlie laughed, grabbing his father's sick bowl and using it. 

When he was done, Molly swatted the twins on the head. 

"Who's idea was that, then?" She said warningly. 

"Freds! It was Freds!" George yelped. 

Fred was swiftly kicked out of the Ward, and Delilah accompanied him. Charlie briskly followed. 

"Well, we need to get a few last minute Christmas presents, anyways," Delilah giggled at Charlie's face, earning her a evil glare. 

The trio ended up in Diagon Alley, where they rushed to buy some Christmas presents to exchange at Arthurs bedside. Molly insisted that they would have to make do at St Mungos for Christmas this year, which Delilah was happy with. It no longer mattered to her where she was - anywhere with them felt like home. 

Once she had finished paying a sales assistant to wrap the presents that she had hurriedly bought, she met Charlie and Fred outside, who were stood firmly outside an empty shop window. 

"You okay, Freddie? Seeker?" She asked, her brows furrowing. 

"Yeah," Fred breathed, "This, Dels, is where the joke shop is going to be. Hopefully." 

His eyes were wide, and full of hope, as he scanned it.

"Wow," Delilah replied, looking up at it herself. She could only imagine what the twins would do with the place, and turned to look at him, adding, "What do you mean by hopefully?" 

"Well. . . you know. Harry had that vision about Dad, and it turned out to be true. What if. . . what if he had a vision about George?" 

Charlie patted him on the back, "Come off it, Fredhead, you know that won't happen. You'll both be fine." 

"Fred, I myself have nightmares. But that doesn't mean that they are true." Delilah said softly, although she couldn't help but doubt herself in the whirlpool of thoughts that sloshed around in her mind. 

Fred shook his head, "You can't promise anything, though. I joined Dumbledores Army, and I'm not stupid all of the time. I know whats coming. I can feel it." 

Charlie gave him a hug, an act of kindness that the boys rarely shared. Delilah could hear them muttering, but due to their heights, she couldn't make out what they said. Instead, Fred simply nodded and they all agreed that it was time to head back to St Mungos, now that Molly would have cooled off, and now that Charlie had had some fresh air. 

Charlie rushed to open his presents, and handed his own gifts to his family. With Mollys traditional jumper layered over his own brown one, he rubbed the freckles that covered his nose and patted his knees triumphantly. 

"Well, I best be off. There's a dragon in my van that will want to bite my head off if I leave it any longer." 

Molly gave him yet another hug, and then Charlie pulled Delilah into one. 

"I know that this isn't goodbye forever, so I won't go all sappy on you. But this trip was one that I'll remember forever. . . and I'm happy for you, Delly. Truely." He said with a hushed tone. 

"Thank you, Seeker," She closed her eyes, breathing in his smell, "Onto the next exciting adventure, yeah?" 

"Yeah," he pulled her away and smiled, lopsided, like Arthur did, "Now then, Greg and Forge, let me say my thanks for that cake. . ." 

Once Charlie had been waved off, Delilah made herself comfortable in the hospital chair and rested her hands upon the last of the three gifts that she had left.

A book, interestingly, all about magical scars, maladies and injuries from Dumbledore. 

Two files, bundled together - one marked with the name Sirius Black, and the other marked Cornelius Fudge. It was clear to Delilah that Sirius had had a change of heart. 

The last one, however, was much more thoughtful: 

A story book. The first couple of chapters were already written, but as she flicked through the pages, she realised that they were empty. Confused, she read the note that accompanied it: 

TO ᗪᗴᒪIᒪᗩᕼ,  
ᗰY ᘜIᖴT TO YOᑌ IՏ ᗩ ᘜIᖴT TᕼᗩT YOᑌ ᘜᗩᐯᗴ ᗰᗴ- ᗩ ᒪITTᒪᗴ ᗩᗪᐯᗴᑎTᑌᖇᗴ, ᗩ ᒪOT Oᖴ ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴᖇY, Tᕼᗴ ᑭOՏՏIᗷIᒪITY Oᖴ ᗩ ᕼᗩᑭᑭY ᗴᑎᗪIᑎᘜ... ᗷᑌT ᗰOՏT IᗰᑭOᖇTᗩᑎTᒪY, ᗩ ᑕᕼOIᑕᗴ. 

Tᕼᗴ ᗷOOK ᗯᖇITᗴՏ Tᕼᗴ ՏTOᖇY ᗩՏ IT ᘜOᗴՏ ᗩᒪOᑎᘜ. YOᑌ ᘜᗴT TO ᑕᕼOOՏᗴ. I, ᕼOᗯᗴᐯᗴᖇ, TOOK Tᕼᗴ ᒪIᗷᗴᖇTY Oᖴ ᑕᕼOOՏIᑎᘜ Tᕼᗴ ᗴᑎᗪIᑎᘜ. ᕼOᑭᗴ YOᑌ ᗪOᑎ'T ᗰIᑎᗪ. 

ᗰᗴᖇᖇY ᑕᕼᖇIՏTᗰᗩՏ, ᗪOᒪᒪ. 

-ՏIᖇIᑌՏ 

Feeling her face redden, she quickly flipped to the last page. 

ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ ᗩᑎᗪ ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT ᒪIᐯᗴᗪ ᕼᗩᑭᑭIᒪY ᗴᐯᗴᖇ ᗩᖴTᗴᖇ.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

DELILAH TRUDGED THROUGH the sun-soaked hills of the Scottish countryside. 

In the near distance stood Hogwarts, mounted on a dreadfully steep hill and surrounded by freshly washed fields that were split by an inky black lake, its rippling water reflecting the greying clouds that loomed above it. 

Dewdrops dampened her shoes with each purposeful stride towards the castle - the thudding of her feet against the ground causing her back to ache. 

The stiff hospital chair that Delilah had resided in all night was partly to blame for the ache, too - she theorised that the disgruntled Healer had given her an uncomfortable chair on purpose, so that she would scurry back to the Burrow with the rest of the "get well soon, Arthur!" party. 

Yet she had stayed firmly planted at his side until merely moments ago, having insisted that she keep him company. 

She had woken up with a cheerful smile, but unbeknown to Arthur, it was simply plastered on - she had secretly had a rather rough night. 

Whilst Arthur had dozed away surrounded by bottles of Blood - Replenishing Potions, Delilah was busy flinching each time she heard echoey footsteps down the corridors.

Eventually, she had grown tired of worrying and then tried to imitate Arthurs sleeping, only to stumble into a nightmare far worse than the ones that she had been suffering from in Romania. 

It started off the same way in which they all did, but gradually, it contorted and shifted into a darker form - the bone chilling, skin crawling type. 

Amidst the broad daylight, she could practically recall each minute detail from the top of her head: 

"I can see you, Delacroix. Try as you might, I can see you. Right through you." 

She had taken a deep breath, feeling her eyes sting with tears. It was happening again. She had tried to press her hands against the icy cold walls, noticing that they were closing in on her, but it was of no use. 

Fudge had caught Delilah in his office. The only thing that she could see were his beady eyes, that gleamed with a deepened purple amongst the sea of darkness that surrounded them. 

He continued, "I've been watching. I've been waiting. And thanks to your dim-witted plan, I can finish what I started. . ." 

"Stop it!" She yelled, fighting back. The tears were prickling, but she tried to hold them there. She was brave, she was brave, she was brave. 

It's just nightmare.

She couldn't help but look back up at the walls - oozing with blood, that slowly seeped down them and then trickled onto the floor. 

Her chest fell up and down as she realised that she was trapped. He had found her. 

Her scar hurt, her head hurt, and the whirlpool of thoughts spurred into overdrive. 

She knew that there was something that she needed to know. She just couldn't figure out what or why. 

"Why am I here?" She choked, falling against the cabinet. She still didn't understand. 

He didn't blink, or move, or react. He stood mercilessly at the doorway and simply said: 

"Can't you hear him?" 

Waking up in a hot sweat, she opted to stay up for the rest of the night, gazing into the darkness of the ward and desperately hoping that a pair of beady eyes would not stare back at her, unblinking, unwavering. 

Without wanting to worry poor Arthur, she turned to the only other form of consolidation: Sirius' Christmas present. 

The story book contained two photos that were taped to the front page. 

Her fingers had traced the frame of the first photo, that displayed both her Quidditch team and Tonks' Quidditch team pulling funny faces.

She could practically hear the laughter from inside the photo, and the beaming smiles were enough to make her smile as well, instantly calming her down. 

The second photo had been taken without her knowing, but she loved it all the same - one of her and Sirius wrestling around in the grass after her team had trumped his. They were covered in grass stains and bearing toothy grins - just the sight of it made her chest feel warm and fuzzy. 

Once it had reached the early hours of the morning, Molly showed up to take over and hurriedly shoved a letter from none other than Dumbledore into Delilahs hands. 

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚑,

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚐𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙿. 

𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝙳𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎

The urgency of the letter, which Delilah clutched in her hand as she made her way breathlessly up the hill, had her worried, but Molly reassured her that everything would be OK and swatted her away from Arthur, kissing him all over tearfully. 

The turn of events had led her to Hogwarts, and now, she had finally made it to the top of the hill. 

Bizarrely, Dumbledore stood by the school gates with a suitcase in his hand, and he seemed to be talking to himself. 

"Headmaster?" Delilah called, frowning as she approaching him. He turned and took a step to the side, revealing that he had in actual fact been talking to none other than Sirius Black. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

"Ah, she has arrived," Dumbledore said in an upbeat manner, "I have not much time to spare, I'm afraid - so I will skip the pleasantries and cut straight to asking you both a favour." 

"Of course," Sirius said, his jaw clenched, "what is it, Sir?" 

"The Ministry has ordered all members of staff at the school to attend a series of extensive meetings at their Headquarters today," Dumbledore explained, "Which they failed to inform me of prior to my engagements. Hence, the school is closed. I'm sure you can both agree that it is rather odd that Cornelius demands that the meetings take place on the one day a year that I will be conveniently out of the country?" 

"Wh-where are you going?" Delilah asked, still out of breath. She tried to avoid Sirius' glare. 

"To Bora Bora," Dumbledore said happily, flicking on a pair of dark half-moon sunglasses, "I am adament in my choice to spend at least twenty four hours there. And so, I ask of you both to watch over the castle for me in my absense." 

Her mouth fell open slightly. Perhaps because she was currently watching Dumbledore as he eagerly flicked through a tourist guide whilst stood next to a neon green, fluffy suitcase. Perhaps because her and Sirius would be all alone in the castle together for a day, and he currently looked like he would happily murder her in it. 

"No problem, Sir," Sirius nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning against the gate, "Its heavily protected, after all. And I haven't had a mission yet - I won't let this one go wrong. Have a nice holiday." 

"Oh, I assure you that I will," Dumbledore chuckled, "Now. . . what am I forgetting?" 

He paused and then dived into the pockets of his robe to retrieve a thick set of keys, which he passed to Delilah.

"Thank you," Delilah smiled, walking towards the gate, "Any other orders?" 

Dumbledores eyes twinkled, "Well, as the young folk like to say these days - spell it before you spill it." 

With that, he began making his way down the hill, leaving behind a red- faced Sirius and Delilah. 

A moment of silence fell between the pair, which was almost painful, before she opened the gates with the keys and finally forced herself to say, "I got your letters." 

"Oh," Sirius replied, "Brilliant. So, do quills and parchment not exist in Romania, or did you finally come to the conclusion that I was what everyone else thinks I am?" 

"What?" Delilah panted, feeling embarrassed at her lack of breath, "N-no, Sirius, you don't understand - " 

"No, I understand perfectly fine. Having a house all to myself has given me plenty of time to understand things." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" She huffed, whilst attempting to catch up with him. 

He lead towards the Entrance Hall, not stopping to answer her until his footsteps echoed up the marble walls and throughout the room.

"I'm not exactly desirable. Even my own sodding bestfriend thought that I was a traitor and a murderer until a two years ago. The entirety of the wizarding world still thinks of me in that way. I let a lot of people down, and I still do, no matter how hard I try - " 

" - I didn't realise that we were arguing over your self-loafing?" 

Sirius finally turned to face her, "Well, we aren't arguing over the files, are we? I gave them back to you! So you must want to argue over your dragon-humping, ginger hunk of a 'bestfriend'! Do you know what - I'm not even mad about it! I get it - I truely do. Charlie seems like a great man, and you both have a history together - " 

"I, we - we," She took a deep breath and tried to recall the beautiful speech that Charlie had once delivered to her, "I'm the pineapple, Sirius, and Charlie is just pizza - he doesn't - we don't taste good - and the letters. . ." 

"Are you having a stroke?" Sirius frowned, watching the girl before him place her hands on her knees. 

She held a hand up in response, and once she had gained her breath, she continued to follow him into the depths of the castle. 

"The letters were hidden from me, Padfoot, and I didn't get to open them for some time. And - and then the snowstorm happened, leaving me no chance to reply," she tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around, his eyes gleaming. 

"Well, that changes quite a lot." 

"I still need to apologise," she added, "I'm sorry if I was ever the reason for you being upset, Sirius. You know that I would want to be the reason for anything but. You opened up to me in those letters, and you trusted me. I just want you to know - " 

" - I don't want you to feel guilt due to pitiful sorrow, Delilah - I know that you and him are soulmates - " 

Delilah shook her head, "As I was trying to say a minute ago - Charlie and I are like pineapple on pizza. Two great things - but they don't belong together. Having a history with him, having things in common, having those memories, does not change the way that I feel about you. Being in Romania only strengthened how I once felt." 

"But what about fate? We keep on getting separated, we have no history - " 

" - we can make one," She said quietly. 

Sirius tilted his head, "Huh?" 

"We can make one," she repeated. 

When she watched Sirius this intently, she could simply tell how much more alive he looked by being back at the castle. He had once told her that it was the only place that he had ever felt truely happy. 

He would know, more than anyone else, that the memories made at Hogwarts could keep relationships undivided, and withstand the test of time. 

"I mean, look at us. We are in this great big castle together, and it would be an honour to have a history with you, Sirius Black. If you have it in you to forgive me, I promise that I can make up lost time for you." 

"You promise?" He repeated. 

"I solemnly swear," She stated, hand on heart, which made a grin creep up on his face, "Starting from. . . now!" 

"Ouch! Slow down, slow down! What are you doing?" 

Delilah was dragging him into the Great Hall, which was unusually empty and still bearing Christmas decorations. 

"Every day at Hogwarts begins in the Great Hall, for breakfast," Delilah replied, rushing towards the Gryffindor table. 

"Ah," Sirius smiled, letting all his doubts, worries and fears melt away as he went along with her plan, "I see. But there's no food?" 

"Use that imagination of yours," Delilah said softly, as she watched Sirius jump up onto the table and look up at the ceiling high above them - the candles bobbing up and down gently. 

"Ok, I'm eating a full English breakfast with all the trimmings," Sirius said, releasing his wand from his man bun and looking down at her, "James got me hooked on it during fifth year, and it always had me full of energy." 

"Interesting. Tonks and I were more beans on toast kind of gals," Delilah stood up on the table, which tilted as they slowly walked along it. 

Each tree in the room was glowing a different colour of the rainbow, and it reflected softly on Sirius' skin - the contours of his chiselled face flooding with vibrant reds, yellows, greens and blues. 

"Can I suggest something?" Sirius asked.

"Of course," Delilah nodded. 

"We take in turns to pick what we do today. I haven't been here with. . . a friend... for a really long time," he mumbled, "It would be nice to do all of the things that we used to do. Pretend it was the same. . ." 

The duo shook hands in agreement, jumping off of the table and beginning their day filled with exciting adventures and nostalgia-filled trips around the castle. 

In the warmth of the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sighed at the sight of his old dormitory. His hands raced along the window sill and across the names carved into the wood - the names of the Marauders. 

"James did this, he said it was to mark his territory," Sirius whispered. His eyes settled on Peters name, which was carved right next to James'. 

"We could etch it out, Sirius. He doesn't deserve to be on there." 

"No, no. He was innocent then. This is like a little part of Hogwarts lost in time, you know? The Marauders live on, here." 

Before leaving the tower, they made out like soppy drunken teenagers on the sofas, as the fire crackled next to them. A beaten up jukebox in the corner played upbeat tunes in the background, creating an ambient atmosphere. 

Delilah took him to the kitchens, where they snacked on delicious desserts whilst the house elves weren't there to usher them out again. 

After wiping the remaining sticky caramel swirls from around their mouths, Sirius picked a walk down to the boat house as a method to walk off the food coma. 

They shrieked as a large large tentacle reached towards the surface of the lake, and laughed when they realised that the stones that they had been skimming had clearly disrupted it. 

"Pick out a stone," Delilah said, as her eyes scanned the deck for a suitable one. 

"Ooh, decisions, decisions. . ." Sirius mumbled to himself. He fussily refused any of the stones that she offered him before settling on a dark brown one. 

"Very nice. Very Sirius." She commented, and he nudged her playfully in response. 

"Good Godric, do I look rough around the edges and dirty to you?" 

After each of them had settled for a stone, Delilah took him to one of the many classrooms so that she could cast the Protean Charm on them. 

"Stop complaining, Pads. We are at school, after all. And these might come in handy. Look - now, whenever one of us touches our pebble, the other will be able to sense it." 

"Marvellous," Sirius juggled the pebbles in his hands, "so if you ever run off to Romania again, I'll know if you are truely ignoring me or not!" 

Then, Sirius gave an in depth tour of all of the secret routes of the castle. His face lit up and was animated as he retold the great stories of the Marauders and their devilish escapades. They walked hand in hand through each of the underground tunnels, hidden hallways and secret doors. 

Although Sirius was somewhat reluctant, Delilah insisted that they share a dance. 

"Then we have to do this properly," he said, and with a swift flick of his wand, the tables were pushed to the sides of the room and the enchanted ceiling of the great hall changed to a glittery dance floor pattern. 

"May I have this dance?" Delilah said in a funny voice, wiggling her eyeballs. 

"Well. . . I am the most popular guy in school. But yeah, I suppose I could slot you in," He joked, as they danced away. 

He was already running away with the keys dangling in his nimble fingers before Delilah had realised that he had stolen them. 

"Oi! Get back here - hey! Wait up!" 

It was soon clear that he had taken the keys to retrieve a broom for each of them from Madam Hooch's cupboard. They used them to race through the empty halls, flipping off the portraits that watched them whizz past, and soon they were soaring outside - past each winding turret, dipping past the windows, through the arches of the courtyards - as they teased each other about who was the best at flying. 

Delilah closed her eyes briefly as they stopped midair - she wanted to feel this way forever. The wind ruffled through her hair and a gentle, rainy midst began to coat her skin. This was, most definitely, a moment that would become a warm, yellow, fuzzy memory. 

The sun was setting in the distance, causing the sky to turn to a swirl of burnt orange, indigo and pale blue as they finally settled on the roof of one of the highest points of the castle. 

"What now?" Sirius asked her, informing her that it was her turn to pick an activity. 

"How about we watch the sunset and just. . . I don't know. Ask each other stuff?" 

"Yeah, ok." He nodded, laying down on the roof and stretching his arms out. Delilah settled beside him and gently eased her hand into his as they gazed up above them, "Do you want to go first?" 

"Er - ok. How are you?" 

"I'm good. How are you, doll?" 

Doll. 

"Never better. You know, I was reading the book that you got me last night. And I was wondering what happened after they lived happily ever after?"

"What do you mean?" 

"Well. . . you know. Grimmauld Place isn't exactly the happiest of places. Where are you going to go once its all over?" 

"Ah, well, I was thinking about having my own little bed and breakfast. A little pub, and - and I could be the bartender. I know that it doesn't sound like much, but I wouldn't need lots to be happy. Just a place to call home. What do you think?" 

Delilah grinned, "Ooh, I like. What would the name be?" 

Sirius looked into the distance thoughtfully before saying, "The Shaggy Dog. And I would hang the new tapestry up on the wall - family gets discounted shots, obviously. What about your happily ever after?" 

"I'm thinking a dragon and Auror sanctuary of my own. Surrounded by forest, magical beasts. . . and its always bright and sunny. No darkness. So. . . very different endings?" 

"Well. . ." Sirius traced his thumb along her palm slowly, "What about a happy medium: you can have your sanctuary, so long as I can serve all the Aurors that stop by with a pint?" 

"Now that sounds like a happy ending. W - why are you taking off your shirt?"

His neck shot up and he laughed, "I'm fucking boiling, that's why. Is it a distraction?" 

"Well. . ." she trailed off, her eyes wandering from the many tattoos that were scattered across his chest, "Was that what you asked all the girls that you brought up here?" 

"No, actually," He replied swiftly, "I was saving this spot for someone special." 

"I'm honoured. But you didn't ask me a question." She stated, amused. 

"I know," He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to her face to cup it, "How about: can I kiss you?" 

"Yeah," She smiled as their noses touched, "Can I kiss you?" 

"Yeah - " he began, but she had already pulled in for the kiss, her soft lips melting into his chapped ones. 

He tasted just how she remembered - of firewhisky, and cigarettes, and stolen chocolate. He smelt just how she remembered, too, and his hair was just as soft. His eyes crinkled as he smiled into the kiss. He was just as she remembered, but somehow completely different. 

It felt just as tingly as the first kiss had - like a breath of fresh air, and the feeling of empty lungs all at the same time. The same electric feeling ran through her body, starting from the very tips of her toes and finishing as a warm fuzzy feeling in her head. 

It was like the answer to the question that neither of them dare ask one another. 

"Stop smiling," he chuckled, running a hand down the curve of her back, "I can't kiss you if you smile." 

"I don't think I can stop," she felt herself melt at the sight of him looking at her. He pulled up the sleeve of her arm, looking at the scar. 

"Perfectly imperfect. The more of them the better," he recalled, as he settled for kissing down her arm instead. 

"Is this a bad time to tell you that I reckon Chaser can feel everything that my scar can?" Delilah closed her eyes as she laughed. If they had been open, she would've seen that Sirius grinned just at the sight of her. 

"Nevermind," he sighed, "there are plenty of other places to kiss." 

She melted at his touch once more, his hands running down her sides and then escaping underneath her clothing as they made love to each other on the roof. The sun continued to set until it had almost dipped below the horizon as they finished getting dressed. 

He came back down from where he had been stood to kiss her once more, and she held onto his shoulders to stop him from moving away. 

"Sirius?" She asked, looking into his eyes as their foreheads touched. 

"That's me," he smiled, "What is it?" 

"I love you." 

His eyes widened. He pulled away and stood up, almost slipping over and rattling a few roof tiles as he did so. 

"Merlins right testicle!" He exclaimed, clasping a hand to his mouth. 

Delilah felt her chest thudding like crazy.

She had never admitted that to someone, and yet she knew that she meant every word of it, and loved every part of him. 

The things that made him broken, and the things that made him fixed.

The good, the bad, the ugly, the uglier. 

She was completely, utterly, divinely in love with him, and most of all, he was the exciting feeling that Arthur had told her to hold onto. 

"She loves me!" He yelled, his hands shooting up in the air, "Did you hear that, castle? Did you hear that, trees? SHE LOVES ME! SHE LOVES ME! I LOVE HER TOO!" 

Delilah stood up now, grinning like a maniac, "You do?" 

"Since the moment we kissed on the garden bench," He said, bringing his hands to either side of her head and locking eyes with her intensely, "I've been in love with you." 

He picked her up with ease and began carrying her back towards the brooms that had been discarded further down on the roof. 

"Oi, what are you doing?" She chortled, tapping him on the back lightly as she dangled in his firm grip. 

"Taking you on a date," he replied, "Before you got here, Dumbledore said that Moody and Shacklebolt would take over after it got to nighttime." 

"I see," She replied, her jaw hurting from grinning, "I'm not planning on running away, though. You can put me down." 

"I don't plan on letting go of you anytime soon, doll."

Doll.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

DELILAH PUSHED THE jumper into Sirius' chest.

"Ew, no." 

"What? Oh, come on, it would be rude not to. She knitted it for you!" She pleaded, as he heaved it away from him. 

The duo were currently stood next to the icy decking of the Burrow, and had been for some time - tossing the jumper back and forth, both of them too stubborn for their own good. Delilah was adament that he wear it due to its sentimental value. 

"Ugh," he groaned, "I understand the sentiment, but the colour clashes with my hair, and my eyes - " 

" - Sirius Black, put the fucking jumper on!" 

"Oh, don't take that tone with me, doll," Sirius said as he leaned into Delilah. His smell - firewhisky and smoke - mixed sinfully with the smell of the jumper - magic and pinecones - to entice her. 

He pulled the jumper past his tumbling locks and continued, "because if you do, I'll make this party really hard for you to get through." 

She nudged him playfully and looked down at his fresh appearance - she didn't think it clashed at all. 

"See? You look rather dapper," she proceeded to smooth the material that had gathered at his waistband, "And I'd like to see you try - this is a family party, after all - merlins testicles, Sirius, we're outside!" 

Sirius had taken her words as a challenge, and whilst they were merely stood a foot and a half away from the front door of the Burrow, he had crept a hand up towards her bra. The cool winter air followed with it, leaving goosebumps as it enveloped around her chest. 

Her small bag, the one that Hermione had charmed for her, was tucked inside her clothing, concealing it from prying eyes. Inside, it contained all of her Christmas presents, her enchanted pebble, and other objects that she deemed important. 

Sirius, however, did not seem to notice it, and Delilah thought that he was about to lean in to kiss her, when he pulled away last minute teasingly. 

"Fine, I'll just fuck you inside instead," He concluded merrily, a mischievous shimmer in his eyes.

He let his hands trace the curves of her sides before planting them firmly on her hips and using his grip to push her, so that she went stumbling through the front door before she could allow herself to calm down from his suggestive touch. 

"Oh - Delly is here!" Hermione exclaimed, as she bundled her rather squashed looking ginger cat into her arms and smiled at Delilah. 

"I am indeed - evening, Molly! How are you?" Delilah sighed into the hug that Molly had pulled her into: 

"Sick of Remus' ungodly singing," Molly said, which made her laugh. Her voice reduced to a whisper as she quickly added, "What did he want to speak to you about, Dearie?" 

"Just wanted us to look after the castle whilst he went on a short trip to Bora Bora," Delilah replied, realising that the sentence itself sounded utterly ridiculous. 

"Us?" Molly asked, as she let go of her. 

"Yep - us. Sirius and I." Delilah felt warm and fuzzy all over. 

Right on time with her words, Sirius came through the door and extended his arms to Molly, making a point to show off the jumper. 

"Ah, how lovely! You look very - " Molly began, as she gently pat him on the shoulders. 

" - sexy?" Sirius finished for her. 

"Er - no. I was going to say nice." Molly frowned, swatting him away with a chuckle. 

Sirius turned to Delilah and winked, "Can't win them all, I suppose." 

"Not trying to steal my wife away again, are you, Mr Black?" Arthur bellowed from across the room. He was positioned in his favourite armchair and wore a matching jumper. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mr Weasley. You would beat me up within seconds," Sirius said, loudly, back.

"Again?" Delilah repeated Arthurs words, raising an eyebrow at the tall man in front of her. Before he could give a reply, Molly had pulled her into the corner: 

"Charlie told me to give this to you. He said to read it in private," Molly noted, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a report. 

"No worries," Delilah said, feeling slightly apprehensive at the bold words marked on the front, "I'll take a look at it later." 

Molly then turned her focus back to hosting the party - fussing over the crisps that had been knocked onto the floor by Crookshanks, and then fussing over the twins, who kept on trying to persuade Arthur to do some shots with them. 

Delilay, however, was more focused on the Burrows gentle buzz. . . the soothing ambience of the living room, and its crackling fireplace and twinkling fairy lights. 

From across the room, Sirius was waving a red solo cup to get her attention, and beckoned her over with his finger. She gingerly began making her way over to him, trying to greet each of the Weasleys in turn. 

"All ok, Arthur?" She asked, placing a Christmas cracker hat onto Arthurs head with a smile. 

"I would be if you could keep Fred and George away from me for at least five minutes of the night," Arthur retorted, "They keep on chanting for me to do shots - no matter how many times I remind them that this bottle is merely a healing potion." 

"It wouldn't hurt for you to live life on the edge a little, Arthur! But your wish is my command - I'll try and contain them in a different room for a while," Delilah grinned, as he rolled his eyes in response: 

"You sound just like Charlie, you do." 

She smiled at the mention of his name and then looked around the room for two matching heads of flaming red hair - but she realised that they must be in another room along with everyone else. 

She left Molly, Arthur, Hermione and Crookshanks in the living room and trailed towards the kitchen behind Sirius, where the sounds of 'oohs' and 'aahs' were emitting from. 

"Wotcher, bitchface!" Tonks grinned, throwing her arms in the air so that Delilah could jump into them. 

"Oh, Tinks, I missed you terribly," Delilah squeezed her bestfriend in her arms, "Never leave me again, okay?" 

Tonks scoffed, "Er, I didn't leave you, you left me. Here. With him!" 

She followed Tonks pointed gaze towards Remus, who was slowly swaying from side to side as he narrowed his focus on a bubbling cauldron in front of him. His tounge was sticking out slightly from the immense amount of focus that he placed on stirring the ladle around in the dark concoction. 

"Molly told me that he was doing some ungodly singing, so I was expecting him to be drunk, but not. . . like this," Delilah said, "How many shots is he on?" 

"Oh, just the two," Tonks rolled her eyes playfully, but the warm tones of her hair suggested that she instead found it amusing, "He really ought to stick to the Butterbeer, but now he's making some almighty alcohol soup." 

"Did I just hear the phrase 'almighty alcohol soup'? Theres no alcohol in these ruddy cupboards - must be the kids. So count me in!" Sirius said, as he shut the cupboard door with a bang. 

"Wotcher, Sirius," Tonks acknowledged him, still hugging Delilah, "you did indeed. In fact, you might understand what Remus is saying - go on, give it a try." 

Sirius furrowed his brow, but followed Tonks instructions and approached Remus slowly, whos hands were littered with cuts and scrapes once more, "Moony, buddy, everything ok in there? Blink twice if you've been possessed by a wicked witch who sells dodgy potions for a living!" 

Remus looked up at Sirius with a huff, "Do one, Padfoot, I'm perfectly fine." 

" - perfectly fine?" Delilah couldn't help but inturrupt, still clutching onto Tonks. 

"Yeah, funnily enough, I am," Remus nodded feverishly, glancing back down at the bubbling mixture, "Ok, I think that it's done?" 

He scratched his head in confusion, and allowed the other three to peer over the sides of the cauldron and at the liquid. 

"This is gonna make my liver come out my arse," Sirius muttered, and then cackled, "and I'm so excited for it." 

"Ye - yeah," Remus said, hiccuping as he did so, "do the honours, Tinkie?" 

"No harm in trying," Tonks shrugged, taking a solo cup and pouring the liquid into it using the ladle. She proceeded to take a gulp at the same time as Remus, who towered over her. They both closed their eyes, and judging by the intensity of their reactions, it had its strong effect.

After a moment or two, the duo opened their eyes again and smiled profusely, and Tonks announced, "Yeah, it works - oh, bloomin' heck, Remmy, how much vodka did you put in this?" 

Sirius chuckled and passed Delilah a solo cup of her own, "Feeling up for it, doll?" 

Doll. 

"Er - sure. Just. . . can we drink somewhere private?" She asked, eyeing Tonks and Remus, who looked like sappy teenagers about to make out at any given second. 

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows, took Delilah by the hand, and mumbled to the others that they would be back in a moment. 

His mumbling was not heard by Remus and Tonks, who were giggling to themselves as they bickered over whether Remus was fit to consume any more of the cocktail himself. 

"As always, ladies first," Sirius said swiftly, pointing at the staircase in front of her. 

Delilah let out a small sigh, her heart beating faster from the anticipation. 

She made her way up the stairs and began to look for an empty room, but yet again, each one was occupied. Eventually, she gave up and trudged back only to find Sirius leaning against the bathroom door.

His white shirt was half unbuttoned, exposing the tattoos and light layer of sweat that coated his skin, giving him an incandescent glow. 

He sighed at the sight of her and then shut the door - clink! - the buzz of the Burrow hushing to a weak hum. 

Delilah perched on the side of the bathtub, simply taking him all in. He was like a whole other entity with alcohol running through his veins, through the palms of his hands, which he was now running through his hair.

"Shall we do it?" She asked gently. 

"We shall," he tapped his cup against hers and sat on the floor beside her, leaning against the wall, "On the count of three. One, two... three." 

Delilah took the potion that had been sloshing around in her cup, and allowed it to slip past her lips and down her throat. Each drop fizzed as it trickled down, and suddenly, she felt her chest warm and her muscles relax. 

Her eyes were hazy and were thoughts foggy - the bathroom sink was so fascinating, in this light, wasn't it? 

It was like zoning out and intense focus all at one - memories of running through the halls of Hogwarts with Sirius, playing chess after midnight whilst sprawled out on the sofa, holding his hand. . . then, through the fog, was the memory of her parents - she could almost reach out and grab them - almost. 

"I'm sorry," Sirius said suddenly, snatching her back out of her daze. 

"For what?" She asked, brows pinched together. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, "for being selfish, I s'pose. Selfish of me to assume I'm the only one who has losses, isn't it?"

"Don't apologise, Sirius. Like I've told you before, dark thoughts like those will consume you. It's not surprising, after everything you've been through." 

"Normally it's just me laying down on the floor, thinking about - well, you know. Thinking about Lily and James, about Reg. . ."

"It would've been nice to have met them, I'm sure," Delilah gave his leg a reassuring squeeze. 

"Oh, you have," he mumbled, "a part of them lives on in Harry. Plus, the ones that love us never truely leave us, do they?" 

"They must have been remarkable people, then." 

Sirius nodded, "Two remarkable people, of which there aren't many. Two victims of Voldemort, of which there are countless." 

Delilah shut her eyes, "Well, then, they have quite a lot in common with my parents." 

"I've never asked you about them," Sirius noted. 

Delilah shrugged, "You've summed it up pretty well. From what I know of them, they were two victims of Voldemort. Sometimes I wonder if their fighting was for nothing." 

They looked at each other, the contents of Remus' potion reaching their faces as they both blushed intensely and burst out laughing, "Merlins beard, when did we get so depressing? This isn't therapy - this is a party, Black." 

"This is a party, indeed. I just want to let it all go tonight - that would be the best therapy for me." He extended his arm to help her up from her crouched position. 

"And how do you propose we do that?" She smirked, looking back down at his heaving chest. 

"We could start by getting more pissed. Drunk sex is my favourite," he grinned, grabbing her hand and leading her down the creaking staircase. 

"That surprises me. I thought that sex where you didn't have to do any work was your favourite," she retorted, and he gasped. 

"Why, you little - " 

But he was disrupted by the twins, who had apparated between them, splitting them up from holding hands. 

" - oh, for crying out loud, not this again!" Sirius complained. 

"Sorry!" The pesky twins said in unison. 

"You can make it up to me by showing me where you hid the alcohol. Don't give me that look, George, I know that you replaced the vodka in the cupboard with water. I was a teenager, once, too." 

George sniggered and led them up to their shared room, where they all took turns to do shots of the hidden vodka whilst playing exploding snap as a drinking game. 

Sirius was a rather talkative drunk, and creative, because he spent the night completing trivial pranks. 

They then spent the rest of the night convincing the others to do shots, as well - even Arthur, despite her previous promise - until she felt herself grow giddy as she danced with Tonks in the kitchen, Sirius still absent because of his prank - pulling with Remus as an accomplice. 

It wasn't long before Remus had returned, and Delilah tried to sober him up with diluted Butterbeer. Whilst by the sink, she felt a hand snake around her waist, and then a raspy whisper: 

"Meet me in the bathroom in five." 

With that, Sirius had turned and walked away, twiddling his wand around in his fingers. 

Something about the way that he said it told Delilah that he would be a man of his word, and fulfill his earlier promise - the one that he had made to her outside. 

She danced some more before heading to the bathroom; the door had barely opened and clicked shut before he had captured her in a kiss, his hands running to the edges of her back and then lifting her up whilst simultaneously pushing her against the wall. 

They were too busy panting to say anything, instead taking off the clothing that was getting in their ways. 

His hands lingered on each stretch mark that striped along her thighs and ass. His voice was muffled as he spoke into her neck, "Godric, you're so fucking hot." 

"As are you," She replied swiftly, her tone a seductive drool, "Let me fuck you, Sirius, please - " 

Her hands reached towards his waistband, but he gripped onto her wrist tightly using his own and then pulled them up past her head and against the wall, "Ah ah ah, doll. I distinctly remember saying that I would fuck you." 

She moaned in frustration and proceeded to put pressure on his own neck using her tounge, licking a thick strip up towards his ear and then kissing it softly, her teeth scraping the skin there. 

"Go on then, Sirius, fuck me." She challenged, and he did just that - in one swift movement, he had removed his boxers and freed his erection. 

"There's that tone again, my little slut," He cursed into her ear, and she cried out at the pleasure of him entering her. 

His pace was quick, sloppy, and rushed: but it was very clear that drunk sex was indeed his favourite, because he couldn't help but moan at each blood-rushing movement that each of them made, in a collective effort to make the other beg for more. 

A hiccuping sound followed the absense of noise, and then a faint, "Mmm open the door, it's Remus!" 

Sirius looked at Delilah and rolled his eyes, "Okay, Moony, I'm on the toilet, mate, gimme a second." 

"Have you - " he hiccuped once more, " - have you - " another hiccup, " - seen Delllllyyyyy?" 

Sirius grinned devishly and moved his hand from her throat to her mouth, silencing her as he quickened his pace in-between her aching thighs, "She's in here, Remus, but she can't talk at the moment." 

"Wh - why - nnnnot?" Remus called back, leaning his weight against the door. 

Then, a knocking sound. 

"Go away, Remus!" Sirius shouted half-heartedly. 

"It's not Remus, its Tonks!" Tonks remarked, "What on earth are you - oh! Remus, babe, you've just caught them in the act. How about some, sweet, sweet revenge?" 

Delilah felt her cheeks glow red, and Sirius kept his hand against Delilahs mouth as they both paused to listen out for what was next. 

Then, the joint efforts of Tonks and Remus could be heard from the other side of the door, "Tonight the music seems so looouuud, I wish that we could looose this croooowwwd!" 

Sirius shook his head, "Well, I suppose that's karma." 

He kicked the door and Remus and Tonks finally took the hint and left, not before chanting the chorus a few more times, however. 

The duo laughed into a kiss, the strangled singing allowing them time to take a quick breather before he began pounding into her again, a hand wrapping back around her throat. 

Her fingers traced the broadness of his shoulders gently before reaching his hair, pulling it back behind him so that she could tease his neck again, breathing against it as his hips met hers. 

She rocked against him before hearing a tapping at the window. 

"Si-sirius, I think there's something - ohhhh, fuck! I think there's something at the window?" 

"Ignore it, doll, just focusing on cumming for me," he growled, as he gripped her thigh and made her do so for him, and then pulled out and made a mess on her thighs. 

Then, he took a large gulp of his drink and paused briefly before tipping the remaining vodka into Delilah's mouth, looking into her eyes as he did so. 

The moment was disrupted by a smashing sound that shocked them, the squawking of Erroll - the Weasleys' owl - filling the room. The little mangled owl had seemingly shattered the small glass window in an attempt to enter the house, despite a window downstairs always being left open for that exact reason. 

"Ngh," Sirius groaned, drunkenly flicking his hand at the owl, "Bet that's the first time poor Erroll has seen that - ouchie, it bit me!" 

Delilah laughed, "It's ok, Sirius, just stop panicking - eek! Look, you are scaring the poor thing!" 

Her comments went unnoticed by Sirius, whos consumption of alcohol had seemingly hit him due to the cold air that had filled the room. His wand, which he was using to swat the owl away, went flying out of the window. 

Delilah lowered herself off of Sirius, got changed whilst ducking from the sweeping wings of Erroll, and then opened the door to allow the poor bird inside. 

When she turned back around, Sirius was in animagus form, curled up in the bathtub. 

"Brilliant," Delilah said sarcastically, "I suppose I'll go and fetch that for you, despite the fact that you are currently taking the form of a dog." 

She stumbled down the stairs and out into the night, the rustling of the meadows around her being the only thing that stretched for miles. 

It was dark. 

Her eyes scanned the darkness for his wand, and eventually, they settled on the wand, which was discarded amongst the grass in the near distance. 

Her legs ached desperately, and she had almost reached the wand when it spun rapidly and went flying into the meadow only a foot or so in the distance. 

Something about it felt unsettling to her, but this was not the dark materials that her nightmares were made of, and she was brave. 

So, she followed the wand. 

Yet again, she found it amongst the now tall grass, her nimble fingers trembling as the grass brushed along her arms and as her fingers brushed along the wand that did not belong to her. 

When she straightened out, she was met with the eyes of a stranger - but a familiar one. 

Familiar because of her dark features and tumbling black hair. Familar because of her ghostly eyes and wicked smile. 

Familiar because Delilah had seen it time and time again on the tapestry that used to hang at Grimmauld Place. Familiar because in Order meetings the members had discussed known Death Eaters, and she was one of them. 

Delilah was briefly frozen in fear, but she was a trained Auror, and she had been prepared for moments like these. 

Constant vigilance! Delilah reminded herself, kicking the women so that she went stumbling back into the grass with a thud. 

The commotion had caused Delilah to drop Sirius' wand, and as she searched for it yet again, her hair was yanked ferociously, pulling her to the ground.

The impact made her see stars - so all Delilah could feel was the upper hand that the women had as she pressed her wand against her throat. 

She tried to scream, but her throat felt scratchy and she could not muster a sound. She was paralysed with fear. 

And it was dark. 

The last thing she heard was Bellatrixs' evil cackle, and then: 

"Crucio!"


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

AN EXCRUCIATING PAIN seared through every fibre of her being. 

On the night that she had been struck by Fudge, sparing moments of consciousness had allowed her time to flick through the photo album of her mind. 

Bellatrix, on the contrary, did not allow blissful peace for wallowing in suffering, instead prolonging her agony through curses that struck her body and tore through it, like it were merely the wilting posters that clung to the ceiling of Sirius' old room. 

Delilah writhed below her, clinging onto the brief flashes of fuzzy, warm memories. As if she were drinking from a red solo cup that was punctured; its contents fleeting slowly, and then all at once. 

Summers spent playing hide-and-seek amongst these meadows, their sunny slopes and springing grass dotted with flaming red heads of hair. 

Would the Weasley kids find her hidden amongst the greenery and be plagued by the memory? 

Huddling around the fire after making snowdragons- the friendliest warmth coming from the comfort of a knitted jumper. 

If she was found dead whilst wearing one, would Molly no longer knit them? 

The gentle creak of Ginny's ribs as she offered youthful assurances of a quiet and solitary existence in made-up lands, far, far away, that always ended in happily ever afters. . .

Ginny was now on the Gryffindor team as a Seeker - who would cheer her on as loudly as Delilah would've? 

The pulsating of her heart as Alastor taught her lessons on how to fight the keenest of stings with constant vigilance. 

Had she ever thanked him for teaching her that girls could kick just as hard as boys could? 

Pain seared through her again, and just as she had done before, she imagined that death would make someone feel cold, and alone, and scared, and helpless. 

Laughing the night away with Tinkie as they made broken promises to rid themselves of boys or stop finishing off bottles of gin. 

Will she find someone else to call bitchface, and will that someone find the sugary perfection of the cups of tea that she crafted just as delightful? 

Remus presenting Tinkie with her favourite meal- as he beamed knowing that he had only burnt the toast slightly this time. His unbearable singing filled the rooms that he entered and made the ones that he did not feel empty. 

His hands looked sore earlier - would he ever experience a kinder moon? 

Drifting in and out of clouds like a feather in the breeze alongside Charlie as they visited moats, boats, waterfalls, alleyways and made payphone calls. 

She had been everywhere with him. Would he have exciting adventures forevermore, with little Chaser by his side? 

Sirius. 

Had she ever told him that each time she gazed skywards, the greys of his eyes met her amongst the stars? 

But perhaps Sirius and I have the same fate as pineapple on pizza.

She felt cold, alone, scared and helpless. 

So, perhaps we don't get our happy ending, but in another life, Brave and Prodfrot have a dragon sanctuary where all of the Aurors flock to. . . and maybe next to it was a hearty little pub called the Shaggy Dog and maybe it smelt of cigarettes and magic and stolen chocolate and maybe that would be enough. 

"Cold, alone, scared and helpless," Bellatrix hissed, "You are an open book, doll." 

Doll. 

Albeit cold, and scared, and helpless, the nickname eased her tension and her pain, and she realised that she was, in fact, not alone. 

He's only upstairs, she thought to herself, and she imagined curling up next to him like she had on the garden bench, the electric feeling running through her body instead of the empty, burning one that struck her now. 

He can get better, I know that he can. . .and if he was out here with me now he would brighten the darkness - and - that's right, he brightens the darkness - Delilah looked up at the inky abyss of the sky above her and for the brightest star that was tainted with the grey of his eye. 

There he was, shining back at her, unblinking, unwavering, and although she felt herself slipping away as the curse crushed her once more, she fixated on the star and could've sworn that a rackety sanctuary, course scales of dragons and a signpost that read 'Tᕼᗴ ՏᕼᗩᘜᘜY ᗪOᘜ' awaited her in the distance as the darkness consumed her. 

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

SHE AWOKE, HOWEVER, at what was unmistakably Malfoy Manor. 

She had spent a few missions looking in on the cold tiles as she circled the perimeter of the grand mansion, which boasted the same arrogance as its owners in the form of its decor. Dark green ornaments, shelves stacked with swirling purple potions, large pillars that held ceilings dotted with sparkling chandeliers. 

Delilah was now inside of it, pressed against those cold tiles. Her senses, however, were more focused on the pungent smell of aftershave as it hit her, as well as. . . burnt flesh? 

It came from her bad arm. Etched upon the stained glass surface, there was a garish red thrash cut between the violent purple scar. 

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉, 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖉, 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘! 

"Fudge informed me that the girl was spying on him for some time. He also told me that he took care of it - it is apparent, now, that he did not." 

Lucius Malfoy used the tip of his walking stick to tilt Delilahs' chin. She was now looking up at the man, who was accompanied by Bellatrix and Dolores. 

"We caught wind that you associate with the mutt," Lucius spat, "A waste of a pure-blood, I must admit." 

Umbridge cleared her throat and spoke with a sickly sweet voice, that was headache inducing, "a waste, indeed. He will be disposed of shortly, won't he, Bellatrix?" 

"As will the girl. I will take care of it, before they come looking," Lucius nodded, "she resists legilimens rather well. It appears that she is trying to protect the mutt." 

"No matter. Cousin is too busy seeing to Potters every need to even bother looking for her - Delacroix, darling, your resistance is futile," Bellatrix breathed, as if the girl slumped below her would be able to give a response. 

Lucius wacked her with the walking stick once more, the cracking sound echoing across the floor and disappearing out of earshot. 

"We can see to her later, Lucius," Bellatrix breathed once more, "the girl is for Cornelius - we leave her here, unharmed. The task at hand is Potter." 

Umbridge leaned over the girl, "a waste of an Auror, additionally. Your parents were disposed of for trying to interfere with the Ministry, and now you will be, too! You can resist us all you like, pumpkin, but we've been watching, and waiting." 

She feared that Umbridge was correct. Try as she might, she couldn't resist their attempts at mind reading for much longer before she grew too weak. 

"Enough," Bellatrix hissed, "I'm itching to leave. I've had my fun with her." 

Thrown into the dungeons as if they were merely discarding her, Delilah soon realised that they had left her well enough alone. She allowed herself to gain her bearings. 

The greys of the stone walls and metal bars were not the same as the familiar hues of Sirius'. They felt cold. Yet the orange of her sick would have made her laugh had she not of felt so ill - as it reminded her of Charlie's hair. 

Charlie. Charlie. Charlie. 

Clutching her side, she almost wanting to curse at herself for only now realising that she was wasting the precious time that the Death Eaters had given her. 

Many moons ago she had toasted to Tinkie and made a pact to focus on The Order. Both herself and Harry had spent summer nights pondering over how their stories connected - over how they could assist each other at defeating the men that stood in between them and justice. 

And here she was, staring at the colours of the room and linking them to men that couldn't currently assist her. The only way that they could help now was through -

Her bag.

Her arms trembled as she reached inside to pull out the report that Molly had given to her. 

ᵗᵒᵖ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᶜˡᵃˢˢⁱᶠⁱᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵖᵒʳᵗ   
(ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ) 

ᵈᵉˡⁱˡᵃʰ,

ˢⁱʳⁱᵘˢ, ᵃʳᵗʰᵘʳ, ᵍⁱⁿⁿʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳʳʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ. 

ⁱ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘˡᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵈᵛⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵃʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳⁱᵐᵐᵃᵘˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ. ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵈᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵃʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵗʰᵉᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ. ʰᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵃᵗ "ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵘˢᵉᶠᵘˡ". 

ⁱ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰᵉᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉʳ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵃᵍⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵇⁱⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃʳ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ. 

ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉʳˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ, ˢᵒ ⁱ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵇⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱⁿᵍᵒᵗᵗˢ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃⁿʸ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᵘᵍᵍˡᵉʳˢ ᵈᵉⁿ. 

ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃᵖᵗⁱᵛⁱᵗʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ. ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ ᵐᵃⁿᵒʳ. ⁱ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ. 

ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳʸ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇⁱˡˡ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵠᵃᵘʳᵗᵉʳˢ. ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳʸ/ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵉᵃᵗᵉʳˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ⁱ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ. 

ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵈᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘʳᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵃ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ ᵒⁿᵉ.   
ˢᵗᵃʸ ˢᵃᶠᵉ, ᶜʰᵃˢᵉʳ. 

ᶜʰᵃʳˡⁱᵉ 

The distant echo of shattering glass and heavy footprints stole her attention from the details that the report disclosed. Far too loud to belong to or be created by any Death Eater, Delilah tread towards the bars with caution, but practically yelped when she realised who it was. 

"Chaser! Chaser, oh my good God - godric, wh - what are you d - d - doing here?" 

The dragon that swept towards her had experienced a growth spurt in the short amount of time that had passed, but she found him equally, if not more adorable. 

He whined gently and bobbed his head towards her scar as her fingertips traced the prickling surface, "aw, baby. I'm so sorry, did you feel that too? You came because you knew I was in danger?" 

The dragon had braved the flying conditions and endured what must of been a tiring journey with no guidance, because nobody had accompanied him. Hell, Charlie probably thought that the dragon had gone haywire. 

"Does your father know that you are here? Oh, who am I kidding - can you get me out, Chase? Yes, that's it - good boy! Good boy!" 

He seemed to understand her desperation as he swept the jagged purple edge of his tail against the rattling bars, which bent and snapped at his new found strength. 

"Well, I su - suppose that you've returned that favour that we discussed, haven't you, mate?" 

She enveloped as much as she could of him in a tight hug, "but Chaser, could I ask you one more thing? Could you take me to Grimmauld Place?" 

With a nod and a swish of his tail, she gathered her composure and finally knew what she had to do - get back to Grimmauld Place, read Harrys letter, and tell the rest of The Order what she now knew before forming a plan with them to infiltrate the Ministry once more. 

As Chaser confidently swept past the hallways, Delilah halted as her eyes settled on the shelves that she had seen earlier. Swirling purple potions - clearly dragon venom, the dragon venom that Charlie had said was being transported to Malfoy Manor. 

She pinched one from the many racks and then mounted Chaser, clinging onto him as she directed him to the stingy house that she so desperately wanted to see. 

"So, er, it might be hard for you to get in, I'm afraid. . ." Delilah struggled to hold Chaser back from entering the house due to his size, but he persisted, his shoulders heaving into the doorframe and splintering the wood, ". . . Chaser! Merlins left testicle, you understood me earlier, why don't you understand me now?"

She would of been worried about the chaos that was bound to ensue when the other members came face to face with a dragon, but the duo were met by an eerie silence once he finally managed to shove himself in. 

"Hello?" Delilah called out. Silence. She pushed the door to the dining room open with her wand. 

On the table lay the letter from Harry, which she rushed to open in a bid to distract herself. The silence of the house was deafening - no creaky floorboards, no clinging of dishes, and no strangled singing. 

𝐷𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑦,   
𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡, 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟? 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝐷𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒. 

𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝐴𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡. 

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑀𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡... 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑... 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒. 

𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑦. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐷𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙. 

𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦 

"Shit." Delilah said to Chaser, the whirlpool of thoughts erupting in her head, "Chaser - shit! I get it now. . . but. . . if the. . ." 

If the nightmares were based off of a past event at the beginning, then it was not her trapped in Fudges office, but someone else. Someone that she was linked to. 

Her parents. 

Suddenly, the nightmares became visions, and they came in flashes so realistic that they were blinding. 

Her mother took a deep breath, her eyes stinging with tears as she stopped ruffling through the filing cabinets. 

She had tried to press her hands against the icy cold walls, noticing that they were closing in on her, but it was of no use. 

"Co-cornelius. I didn't realise that you could see me-" she said daringly, her stance wide and her wand raised. 

""I can see you. Try as you might, I can see right through you. Aurors such as yourself are not supposed to be in here. Whatever are you looking for?" 

Fudge had caught her mother and encapsulated her in his tenebrous office. The only thing that she could see were his beady eyes, that gleamed with a deepened purple amongst the sea of darkness that surrounded them. 

"My husband and I figured it out, Cornelius. We figured you out. I'm looking for the report. The report that tells me what I already know. This was part of our plan! I don't understand how you knew..." 

He continued, "I've been watching. I've been waiting. And thanks to your dim-witted plan, I can finish what I started..." 

"Stop it!" She yelled, fighting back. The tears were prickling, but she tried to hold them there. She was brave, she was brave, she was brave. 

Delilahs tears stung too. 

Umbridge had said that her parents were disposed of for trying to interfere with the Ministry. 

What was her mother trying to find? What about her father? In her nightmares, she had always had the feeling that there was something that she needed to know. It was clear, now, that they had died without knowing. 

"Hello?" Delilah called out to the house once more, desperate for an answer. The gentle patter of feet came from the staircase, and she pushed open the cracked doorframe, her eyes settling on Kreacher. 

"Master Delacroix," Kreacher bowed his head, "I never understood whyever you were so kind to me during your stay here. I can repay you." 

"Repay me? Kindness is not an monetary exchange, Kreacher. But - but can you - " 

" - Percy Weasley came to Grimmauld Place. He told Kreacher that you ought to know. . . he told Kreacher that he was ever so sorry for his misalignment. He told Kreacher about it being a trap." Kreacher explained, shaking slightly.

"Well. . . well, if he told you that it was a trap, then why have The Order gone? Where have they gone, Kreacher?" 

"Percy Weasley arrived too late, you see. The Order had gone long before he arrived." 

" - gone? Gone where, Kreacher?" 

" - to the headquarters." 

Delilah blinked. If everything that she knew so far was true, then the beginning of her nightmares were about her parents. 

But the end of them - the distant screaming of a man - those were visions of the future.

The screaming of Sirius Black.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

THERE WAS AN unsettling ambience to the cobbled streets of Whitehall, London - almost as if the place were living, breathing, and awaiting Delilahs' arrival. 

She couldn't help but wonder how bizarre it looked to be dismounting a dragon in such a serene place. Chaser seemed aware of the absense of witches and wizards as he took to examine the landscape, his talons tearing up the cobblestones with each jagged step he took. 

"Do you want to know what Alastor taught Tinkie and I in our third and final lesson of Auror training, Chaser?" Delilah asked, as the dragon returned to her side with a flick of his tail, "lesson three of Auror training was all about constant vigilance." 

She let out a little laugh at her futile attempt to imitate Moodys gruff voice   
as her weak arm went to run across the purple of his scales, which looked sleek as the light from the lamppost shone down on them. 

"At the time, I panicked. I thought that he was absurd for finishing off on something that I deemed so minute, so unimportant. . . I felt like there was so much more that I didn't know. Yet, now, I can see that he was right. Think of it this way: no amount of lessons can teach someone how to infiltrate a corrupt headquarters, figure out why your parents were murdered in cold blood, and, might I add, doing so whilst simultaneously saving your. . . well, I guess I would call him my. . . he's sort of like a. . . boyfriend?" Delilah trailed off. 

Chaser purred at the absense of her touch, and she smiled to herself. 

"Well, if all goes smoothly, I suppose that I should ask him about that, shouldn't I?" She let Chaser slide underneath her stiffened arm, "but if it doesn't go smoothly, you should take this, mate. . ." 

Delilah took a moment to savour the feeling that the knitted jumper gave her - a warm, tight hug - before removing it. She tied the sleeves around one of Chasers horns and left it there. 

"Just to make sure that she always knits them," Delilah whispered, as she shuddered at the bitter cold that midnight brought. 

The vigorous blinking of the light above her caught her attention. Delilah craned her neck to inspect it, but in doing so was quick enough to notice the light of the lamppost turn into an orb. It proceeded to whizz off - and towards the back entrance of the headquarters. 

"The Deluminator," she thought aloud, knowing that it was the only logical explanation. 

She snapped her fingers, indicating that Chaser was to stay put, and he did so reluctantly, watching as the young Auror tread towards the spot that she had bled out on not so long ago. 

She had left behind purple blood-stained cobblestones, that sparkled under the glow of the only light that remained on. 

As she withdrew her wand on instinct, one of the bin lids blew open abruptly, and she pointed her wand at it, her eyes wide and her breaths shuddering as they grew shallow. 

The final light flickered off, and the orb rushed towards and into the bin, zipping out of sight. 

The whirlpool that was her inner monologue spun, and she soon realised that it could not be Dumbledore in possession of the Deluminator, but instead, someone else. The person who now had it was using it with a purpose in mind: 

To lead her inside.

She approached the bin with caution, heaved herself up and over it with great difficulty, and then allowed the lid to close once more as her feet reached the bottom of what appeared to be a tunnel. 

The glowing orb awaited her at the end. She had almost reached it when she fell, instantaneously finding herself facing a welcoming desk that felt rather familiar. 

She ventured towards it, her grip on her wand rigid as she inspected the floor. It was clear to her that she had been brought to Basement Level 1 of the headquarters - the level that housed the offices of Ministry officials and admin staff. 

The deadly silence was only amplified by the faint buzzing noise of the scintillating light fixtures above her. 

Yet again, they were put out one by one. Firstly, the light directly above her, and then slowly, each one that led towards the office at the very end of the corridor. 

Somehow, Delilah felt brave enough to follow until she was once more stood outside his office door. 

"Some Death Eaters lurk in the shadows. Some lurk in plain sight." 

She was reminded of Sirius' words as only one light remained - the glistening plum of a lava lamp from within the office, emitting enough light for her to read: 

Cornelius Fudge   
Minister of Magic 

Her bad arm reached towards the handle and pushed the door open,  
the light casting an insidious glow that covered a thin file that lay on his desk, which Delilah leaned forward to read: 

OPERATION EUFDG

Operation by declaration of the Minister of Magic- the extermination of non purebloods through mass production of dragon venom. 

Awaiting the approval of all heirs/heiress' of The Sacred Twenty-Eight. 

Delilah jumped as a clicking sound came from behind her, followed by the smashing of the lava lamp as the orbs of light struck through the glass. The purple slime-like substance from the lamp splashed up against the walls and travelled down it- just like how it had in Delilahs' nightmares. 

"That belongs to Dumbledore," Delilah said with a gulp, her wand pointed at the Minister. 

He tutted, "after all this time - "

" - that belongs to Dumbledore," she repeated, her chest growing tighter as she fixated on his beady eyes. 

"Fine, we shall skip the pleasantries," his eyes crinkled at the sides, "this little device should be the least of your worries. After all, the wizard seems to have a fondness of passing it onto others. . . your Mother, who used it to get into this very room. . . to you, of course, which was rather stupid - it meant that I recognised you right away - and then, the Inquisitorial Squad confiscated it from a quaint little group called 'Dumbledore's Army'. I believe that it was in the possession of Ronald Weasley. You know the Weasleys, do you not?" 

"Bellatric almost killed me outside of the Burrow. You know that I know them." Delilah said through gritted teeth, "my mother used it to get into this room?" 

"Yes." 

"And she was trying to find out this?" Delilah gestured to the file, "she was murdered over that?" 

"Your parents keen interest to interfere with my plans would of cost me my job, and then he would've finally gotten to be the Minister that he so digustingly wanted to be," Fudge spat, "likewise to all of the other non Death Eaters at the time, your parents were under the false notion that dragon venom held magical properties, and that we were mass producing it for the benefit of the consumers." 

His voice was honeyed, yet laced with disgust, as he twirled the Deluminator between his chubby fingers. 

"When did they realise the truth?" 

"When she went snooping around our bases and found that the dragons being selectively bred were actually the most dangerous of their kind." 

Delilah shook her head, "but I was inflicted by one of the dragons that you were breeding, and I didn't die." 

"Those dragons were bred by me with the intention to harm you. Therefore, you were protected by your parents love." 

Her mouth was agape, "If you're telling the truth. . . then that means you placed the Imperius Curse on your guards." 

He chuckled darkly, "clever, unlike the mutt. How did you draw that conclusion?" 

"When I fought them, one of their arms withered away at my touch. The same happened to Harry when he was touched by the Dark Lord. Dumbledore gave me a book about magical scars - those who inflict them create a bind of sorts." she gulped. 

"Ding, ding, ding," Fudge chimed tauntingly, withdrawing his own wand, "so, I'm sure that you can understand why I had to kill them." 

"Wh - what did you use?" 

"Brackium-sectumsempra," he rasped, his eyes wide at the memory. 

Tears stung her eyes at the memory of the spell that plagued her. 

"You're corruption is in vain, Minister. You might of killed my parents and almost killed me, but it only led me to discover the truth sooner. But. . . I'm not fickle-minded. You've shown me this file as if it means nothing to you, so there must be another reason why you led me here." 

Another dark chuckle escaped his chest, his lungs wheezing as he merely said, "there is only one member of the sacred twenty-eight that has not signed to approve the Operation." 

". . . Sirius?" 

"It would of gone ahead long ago had he not of escaped Azkaban. Instead, we've had to lure both him and Harry Potter here under false pretences." 

Her scar hurt, her head hurt, and the whirlpool of thoughts spun into overdrive. 

"So why am I here?" She finally choked out, having been cornered into the filing cabinet. 

"As bait, of course. I also didn't want you swooping in to save the day." 

"You - you - that's a lie! You can't kill him - he needs to get better. I know that he can!"

He didn't blink, or move, or react. He stood mercilessly at the doorway and simply said: 

"Can't you hear him?" 

And as silence fell over the room, Delilah could indeed hear the faint sound of a scream coming from the floors below them. 

She looked down at the floorboards to where the blood had soaked the carpet, and when she looked back up, the door had locked and Fudge was walking away. 

"No ‐ no - no! Sirius! Sirius!" She shouted, and as she kicked the door down, she pointed her wand at the Minister and cried out, "Brackium-sectumsempra!" 

A string of curse words escaped him as he clutched his knee, but before she could do much else, the doors to the lift had closed and Fudge had made his escape. 

Delilah twisted around to look for another exit - her eyes settling on the fireplace. Reaching into her bag to grab some Floo Powder, she stood amongst the ashened wood and couldn't help but think of Sirius as she demanded to be taken to the entrance level floor. 

No amount of dizziness or light-headedness could distract from the obstacle that she found herself faced with - an almighty dragon, with a silver snout, scattered scales and protruding fangs, as well as sharpened horns embedded like a halo above its beady, purple eyes. . . to any other untrained eye, they would be panicking at the sight of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. 

Delilah, however, knew that Ukrainian Ironbellies had red eyes. Charlie had tested her on it multiple times. The eyes that she stared into now had followed her and stared back into hers hundreds of times. 

She only had to glance down at its injured leg once to realise that it was in fact Cornelius Fudge, in animagus form. 

Further commotion could be heard as it echoed through the empty floors of the headquarters - she couldn't bear the thought of what was going on down there. 

Fudge wasn't going to give up easily. 

She pointed her wand at the dragon - the largest of its species - and made her run for the doors on the opposite side of the room. 

It did not take Fudge much effort to breath an unforgiving wrath of fire down on her, and as the smoke billowed around her and bided her time, she looked down at her wand and realised that the flames had engulfed it. 

She would have to kill the dragon herself. 

Delilah dug into the contents of her bag whilst slipping off her shoes - she would have to reduce the noise that she made, whilst tricking him into thinking that she was somewhere else. 

Firstly, she sacrificed the Magical Scars book. Hurtling it as far left as she could, it crashed somewhere in the formidable distance. Fudge let out a deafening roar as his thick talons scraped against the black and white tiles dangerously close to her. 

Delilah began using whatever she could to gain some more perspective, so that she could approach him from high up. 

She reached into her bag and pulled out Charlie's report. 

"Girls can throw just as far," she said under her breath, using Charlie's technique to lob it through the thick black cloud and across the room. 

She tried to listen out for another scream, but the noise from each piercing growl muffled them. 

Next, she sacrificed the story book. Her fingers lingered over the front cover before she hurled it in the opposite direction - one of Fudges wings came into view as he breathed another curtain of fire in the direction that he assumed Delilah was in. 

She took the opportunity to look for something to gain leverage. Then, the realisation came to her: each wavering flag, emblazoned with Fudges' glum face, was attached to a sharp flagpole. 

Reaching into her bag one last time, she pulled out her pebble and held it firmly with her good arm - hoping that she could hear him answer back. 

The smoke was beginning to fog, however, and she knew that she didn't have much time as she heard a magnitude of noises escaping from the depths of the ministry building - they were growing closer. 

She threw the pebble close to where she was above the ground now, and waited until it landed below her. Then, she kicked off of the balcony that she had been stood on, planted one foot against the green tiles of the wall, and gripped onto the nearest flagpole with all her might. 

The cool metallic sting of its surface rushed through her as the dragon approached. The smoke finally cleared, and she was met with the purple eyes of the Minister. 

Yanking the pole from the clasps that attached it to the wall, she pushed against the tiles and began to fall, gaining traction until she had mounted the back on the dragon. 

Fudge roared once more as he thrashed about, his wings beating against the golden gates leading to the lifts as he flung them up and into the air. 

Delilah tightened her grip and brought the sharp end of the pole up above her head, forcing her eyes to stay open as she descended on the dragon. With one sharp swing, she impaled him just above his left shoulder, and then brought the pole back up as his wings lifted back up once more, his tail knocking her off balance as he spun around. 

She could've sworn that she saw Mollys' knitted jumper out of the corner of her eye, and she was right: Chaser, although a tiny dot in comparison to the dragon she was valently fighting, was attempting to save her. 

"Go - Chaser, help her!" 

She could've sworn that she heard Sirius' voice. 

But she had to be brave. 

"Chaser, no! Chaser, Chaser," she snapped her fingers as she continued to be swung about by the tail that she had landed on, "take the others and get them out of here. Get them out!" 

She could see his purple scales sweeping away as the smoke enveloped her once more. 

She clambered up the tail of the dragon, one side of her body heavily bruised as she finally met the prickly crown of horns at his skull. She brought the flagpole down once more, watching as it cascaded through the air and then pierce through him, gouging out his right eye. 

The weight of the dragon as it fell to the ground caused the floor to give way. The duo were then fighting as each level of the Ministry headquarters collapsed in on itself - mounds of rubble and dust erupting around them as the humongous limbs of the dragon clambered to fight for victory over her. 

As they plummeted, two of his talons mercilessly tore through her good arm, impaling her to the rubble that they crashed into. 

The snout of the dragon rose and fell one last time before silence filled the destruction that they had caused. 

Her scar no longer hurt. The whirlpool of thoughts in her head swirled to a halt. Her eyes fluttered around the rubble - she was met with the warm grey hues of Sirius'. 

She could stare into them forever, but she let them flutter shut and rest. 

It was over.


	26. Epilogue

FIVE YEARS LATER

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EVERY GREAT STORY ends with a happy ending. Well, every great story ends with a happy ending according to Delilah Delacroix, who spent the past five years telling Sirius Black so. 

Walking up the steep hill as quickly as she could, Delilah cursed at herself for being late to the last meeting. The last one! She thought to herself. She blamed Teddy for keeping her up all night - somehow, he was still teething. Even still, McGonagall commanded attention and Delilah did not want to fail her. 

"Hurry up, Sirius, you're falling behind!" Delilah called back to him. She turned around and was amused to find him crouching down on the grass, his chest heaving up and down as he attempted to catch his breath. 

"You must go on without me," he cried out playfully, "there is no hope for me now. Tell. . . tell McGonagall that I always found her good looking." 

Delilah rolled her eyes and looked down at him. He had rested his head on the grass and was looking up at the clear skies above them. 

"Sirius, I'm being serious!" She called to him. 

His gaze flickered upwards and his eyes narrowed, "sorry, doll, but you aren't nearly as good looking." 

Doll. 

Delilah scoffed, "I won't hesitate to kick you all the way back down this hill." 

He groaned, "please don't, its taken a lot of effort just to get to the halfway point. Couldn't we of apparated?" 

"How many times does Hermione have to tell you - ugh, it doesn't matter. Besides, we wouldn't have to be rushing if you weren't fussing over your hair for so long, and you wouldn't be so out of breath if you actually left that pub of yours to get some exercise every once and a while," she bickered. 

"The Shaggy Dog needs to be kept well maintained!" Sirius chuckled, "I sure do hope that those sanctuary workers of yours are taking good care of it." 

"Well, if you hurry up, we will be back in no time." 

She turned on her heel and continued the journey up to the castle, which looked grand as ever as it loomed above her. 

It had been rebuilt since the Battle of Hogwarts, but Delilah nor Sirius had visited it since. What was once a castle simply filled with happy memories was now also a castle swarming with the horrors of their pasts. 

A panting sound from below her was enough to cause her to rip her gaze away from the majestic castle and to the ground, where she discovered a large, shaggy black dog that was racing past her. 

"Oi! Thats cheating," she laughed, picking up her pace. 

Eventually, the duo reached the top of the hill and found a cloaked figure waiting for them. 

"Late, late, late as always! No dragon bite this time?" McGonagall asked through pursed lips. 

"No, Headmistress, thankfully not."   
Delilah greeted McGonagall with a one-armed hug, "my lateness is due to - " 

Delilah was interrupted as Sirius brushed against her, on purpose, so that he could greet Minerva. 

"Ah, the only injury that you have sustained is a deep thorn in your side, in the shape of Mr Black," McGonagall quipped, as she led the couple through the gates and up to the meeting room. 

"Indeed," Delilah blushed, "as I was trying to say, my boyfriend is to blame for our lateness this time." 

"I am stood right behind you both, by the fucking way," Sirius muttered. 

Delilah ignored his offended tone and gawped at the rebuilt castle. It held the same nostalgic ambience whilst also feeling entirely new at the same time. 

"It is important to note that students will be walking the halls, Mr Black - therefore I ask of you to keep the offensive language to a minimum!" McGonagall tutted. 

Indeed, a gaggle of students strutted by as McGonagall spoke, although they seemed amused at his foul language and nothing more. 

The rest of the walk was done in silence - the duo slowing down at certain points to marvel at familiar paintings or examine elaborate statues and stained glass windows. 

The final stop was the old meeting room. A silver plaque reflected the honeycomb beads of sunlight and was fixed against the brick wall: 

This plaque is mounted in honour of the Second Class Order of the Pheonix, an army that formed in this very room; who fought against Cornelius Fudge and Voldemort in the years prior, and during, the Battle of Dragons and the Battle of Hogwarts.   
Their sacrifices do not go unnoticed. 

"I've always thought that 'the Battle of Dragons' was a rather obnoxious title," Delilah sighed. 

Sirius rubbed his eyes delicately and shrugged, "that's what it was. Although I was in favour of the title 'Battle of the Badass'." 

McGonagall pursed her lips once more, but it was clear that she was suppressing a smile. She pushed open the creaky doors and allowed them to enter the room. 

Unlike the rest of the school, it remained very much the same as it had been left three and half years before. It was as if time had stood still in that room only, reluctant to move on, reluctant to let go. 

The map of the school that Dumbledore had once examined over the table remained in the same position. 

The only difference were the members that were sat around the large oak table - notably, there was no longer Dumbledore, Moody, Shacklebolt, Snape, Fred, Remus or Tinkie. 

Delilah sat next to George. Whilst everyone else was engaged in plentiful conversation, he had remained seated. 

"Georgington," she acknowledged him with a pitiful smile. 

"It's weird being back. The castle feels emptier without him here," he said quietly. He sensed her confusion at his subdued manner and added, "I can't be too loud. If Mum hears my voice, it sets her off." 

Delilah squeezed his hand, "I'm so sorry, George." 

He squeezed her hand back, "Don't apologise for something that isn't your fault." 

"Fred discussed his innate fear of losing you with Charlie and I many times. I never stopped to think that just because he was prepared, didn't mean that you were - "

" - it's okay. I didn't prepare for it - hell, I didn't even consider it - but I'm coping. We're twins, aren't we? We'll always be together." 

He turned to look at her.

"Besides, you lost Tonks. You two were practically joined at the hip," he laughed. 

The corners of her mouth tugged upwards, "I suppose so. Gosh, you should see little Ted, George. It's like a part of her lives on." 

"And Moony," Sirius added as he joined the pair, "when Teddy tries to sing, it sounds just like his strangled howls." 

The three of them laughed some more, and George asked, "and his favourite food is the same as Tonks, Harry told me?" 

"Beans on toast, yep, just like Tinkie," Delilah grinned, "but we learnt the hard way that it has to be cut horizontally instead of vertically." 

"Well, I don't have beans on toast, I'm afraid, but I did make a chocolate cake," Ginny cut in, with a soothing smile and apologetic look. 

"Four of those slices have my name on it, by the way," Sirius wiggled his eyebrows, "and we should take a slice back for Chaser." 

"Okay everybody," McGonagall cleared her throat as she smoothed the crinkles of her robes, "I would like to thank you all for the combined efforts to be here today - whether that be travelling as far as Romania. . ." 

She looked at Delilah, Sirius and Charlie with a smile, "or merely walking upstairs. Now, I haven't actually asked you all here today for a meeting. I ask of you to follow me to the Great Hall." 

Heads turned to and fro as the members looked at one another with confusion. Charlie, who was stood with his hand against Arthurs chair, frowned at Delilah as if to silently ask her if she knew. 

She shook her head, but nevertheless, McGonagall spared them no time to gossip about it as she lead them to the Great Hall. 

Students adorned in their house robes couldn't help but gawp at Harry, who strolled hand in hand with Ginny as they made their way to the front. 

Delilah felt rather out of place as she was gawped at in the same way. It came as no surprise to see Harry treated as a celebrity, but to be treated like one herself felt odd. 

"We are gathered here today on an important anniversary - it marks the date that the First Class Order of The Pheonix formed," McGonagall noted. 

Placed upon a golden podium was a velvety box, and the Headmistress opened the lid to reveal multiple silver medals suspended on purple ribbons. 

"These medals are to commemorate The Order. They represent the bravery of the members that so valiantly fought during both the first and second Wizarding Wars." 

The sentiment pulled on her heart strings and Delilah couldn't help but feel proud of everyone that she stood next to - her family, her friends. 

One by one, each member was called to the podium and bestowed upon as the students applauded them. 

"Remus Lupin," McGonagall announced, "for outstanding displays of bravery, and for protecting his son by providing him with the safety that he never hand." 

Sirius accepted the medal of behalf of Remus, looking rather nervous as he held it between his hands. 

"Tonks - I've been asked to just call her Tonks - for her efforts as an Auror and bestfriend, and for the sacrifices she made for the greater good." 

Delilah accepted Tonks medal, feeling rather excited to show it to Teddy, whos hair was bound to turn pink just from the sight of it.

Once she had returned to Sirius' side, she leaned into Sirius, who gave her a small nod, "We'll give the medals to him when he's old enough. I am a bit annoyed, though. . ." 

". . . what? Why?" She whispered, as she clapped for Charlie, who was blushing furiously from the attention of swooning teenage boys. 

Sirius pointed at his outfit, "purple ribbon clashes with green cotton!" 

Delilah rolled her eyes playfully, "aren't you funny." 

Delilah turned her attention to the reception of the Great Hall, trying to take in the sight as well as digest the acknowledgement. They had not participated and fought for fame, but instead to protect others. Here they were, stood before the lives that they had collectively saved. 

"To the Order!" McGonagall said, raising her wand in the air and towards the swirling purple skies that the enchanted ceiling depicted. 

"To the Order!" The students cried in harmony, lifting their wands up as far as their hands would allow them to stretch. 

Delilah raised her wand in memoriam of the members who could not be stood alongside them, and added to the deafening chants that were amplified by the grandour of the hallways, "The Order!" 

McGonagall addressed the students once more after their wands had returned to the safety of their pockets, and Delilah zoned out whilst she stood next to Sirius, simply recalling the memories that they had made during their breif return to Hogwarts. 

"I need to throw some things away before we go back home," Delilah told him, her fingers circling the palm of his hand. 

"McGonagall already told me not to wander around the castle," Sirius smirked, "so you'll have to take the blame if she catches us for the stunt I'm about to pull. . . let's go." 

"Huh?" 

"Lets go! Now!" His palm slotted into place with hers, and suddenly he was pulling her away from the rest of The Order that had gathered around the front of the Great Hall and its golden podium, and past the fleeting eyes of confused students as they watched the couple race out of the hall and into the courtyards. 

"Your secret spot?" She asked, as she stuck out her hand and summoned a broom. With a cheerful nod, he copied her actions and followed her as she led them to the rooftops of the school. 

Delilah set aside her broom and settled down on the tiles, gazing into the yellow sunset that coated the muddy hills and the surface of the glistening Black Lake. 

"What did you need to throw away?" He asked, patting her on the head and then sitting beside her. 

She reached into her small bag and pulled out the Deluminator, the cold metal ghosting her fingertips as she stretched her hand out for him to see. 

He took it from her and chucked it into the distance, "good riddance, you piece of piss!" 

"You've always had a way with words, Sirius Black." 

He raised an eyebrow and stretched his arms out nervously, "well, that doesn't exactly calm my nerves in preparation for what I'm about to do." 

Delilah frowned, "what? What do you mean?" 

He took her hand and stood her up, and just as she was expecting a kiss, he bent down on one of his knees and looked up at her, presenting a velvety box like the one that she had just seen in the Great Hall. Apart from this one was much smaller - small enough to hold a ring. 

"Delly, from the moment we kissed on the garden bench, to all of the fuzzy, warm, yellow memories with you, from the moment you told me that I could get better, and to raising a child - I've been in love with you." 

He opened the box and revealed the shimmering, dainty ring. 

"And just like I told you on this spot all those years ago - I don't plan on letting you go anytime soon. So what do you say, doll? To a happily ever after?" 

Doll. 

"Merlins left testicle, Sirius - yes! Yes, yes, yes - " 

She pulled him in for the kiss. His lips were as soft as ever, as was his tumbling hair, and he smelt of firewhisky and smoke as he pulled her in closer.

"Yeah, if Minnie catches us now, it would've been worth it," he chuckled, taking the ring and slipping it onto her finger. 

Delilah extended her hand, "one last thing that I need to throw away." 

He raised an eyebrow, "you want to throw me away? I thought that proposal was pretty good!" 

"Only half of the time," she joked, "no, I meant your pebble." 

The greys of his eyes glimmered as he reached into his pocket and retrieved the rough, brown stone, "I liked the sentiment of it, though." 

"Yeah, well, I sacrificed mine during the Battle. We don't have to live like we are going to be separated anymore, so you won't be needing it." 

She threw the stone into the distance and watched until it was engulfed by the long, swaying grass. 

They sat beside each other for some time, taking in turns to recall the past and giggle at the memories of their best friends, whilst wandering what could of been. They pointed at the stars that shone above them and dedicated them to the fallen members of the Order. 

A lifetime with him could never be enough, but the fuzzy feeling that she felt when she was with him could last forever.

As they gazed at the stars, she couldn't help but think about how this moment and the ending of the story book that he had once gifted her fitted perfectly together: 

ᗷᖇᗩᐯᗴ ᗩᑎᗪ ᑭᖇOᗪᖴᖇOT ᒪIᐯᗴᗪ ᕼᗩᑭᑭIᒪY ᗴᐯᗴᖇ ᗩᖴTᗴᖇ. 

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AUTHORS NOTES:

and that's a wrap, bitchfaces!

I hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it - this is the second draft, and maybe one day I'll return to polish it up a little bit more. 

Exploring a world in which I could do my own little spin on the classic Harry Potter story and go on an adventure with these characters was amazing. 

This is the first book that I've ever fully written and finished! 

Started on the 9th November 2020  
Finished on the 28th December 2020  
Published to ao3 on 10th February 2021


	27. Bora Bora One Shot: Sirius Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bora Bora AU one shot in the y/n perspective!

"What on Godrics green earth are you doing? You told me that there was an emergency!" She hissed, attempting to catch her breath by leaning on a counter, only to be squacked at by Fawkes. 

Sirius shushed her, "This is an emergency! I accidentally sat on Dumbledores inflatable chocolate frog, and-and I just know that bird will tell him!" 

"The bird cannot speak, Sirius, you do know that, right?" 

"It's a magical bird, Y/N, it can probably shit out rainbows," he rubbed his temple. 

"It probably can't. Speaking of shit, why have I been handed all of the shitty tasks whilst you get the good ones?" 

She was, of course, referring to the list of tasks that had been delegated to each member of The Order that had agreed to go on the Bora Bora trip, intrigued to see the experience that Dumbledore would bestow upon them. 

"Because I'm dashingly handsome?" He responded with a flirtatious wink. 

"Dashingly dim-witted," Y/N muttered, "I suppose that you aren't even supposed to be in here." 

Sirius hushed her yet again, "I'm not dim-witted, and I am allowed in here. He did strictly forbid me from touching anything whilst he went to fetch the pump, though..." 

Y/N sighed, "so, naturally, you jumped on it as soon as he left the room." 

Y/N withdrew her wand and cast the spell that would fix the inflatable, and then lended Sirius a hand so that he could get up and off the floor. 

"Whats gotten your panties in a twist, eh?" He then asked, as he rolled the sleeves of his hawiiaan shirt just above both of his elbows. 

She couldn't help but blush furiously at his lingering smell as he stepped closer. 

"You'll make everyone late if you keep on distracting me from sorting out the suitcases," she nudged him, "no more talking about my 'panties' until we get to Bora Bora." 

As always, her backchat was in tragic timing: Dumbledore entered the room and simply said, "I would indeed appreciate it if all conversations regarding undergarments were made in the formidable future, and additionally outside of my office." 

With a twinkle in his eye,  
Dumbledore threw the pump in Sirius' direction before turning his attention to feeding Fawkes, who leaned in close to the wizards ear. 

"Is that so, Fawkes?" 

Y/N happily fed Fawkes another treat as Dumbledore took a sip from his goblet of Butterbeer and tilted his head, "Fawkes tells me that you burst my float." 

Y/N couldn't help but burst out laughing, whilst a disgruntled Sirius made a gun sign to the bird and stuck out his tounge, "snitches get stitches, little birdie." 

A trip filled with relaxation, sun, sea, skies and booze was only right around the corner, and with the hopes of speeding up the process, Y/N decided to leave the men to sort out the inflatable floats whilst she finished packing the suitcases. 

It didn't take long before everything was finalised- finally, Tonks and Y/N could discuss all things gin related and gossip about what bikinis they would wear, much to Remus and Sirius' delight, who just seemed pleased to be the company. 

"Everybody ready?" Charlie asked, as they formed a circle outside. 

"Never been more ready in my life. Its time to take Bora bora..." Sirius said with a slight smirk etched upon his dark features, "Sirius style." 

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝. 

"Oh dear," Remus began to fret, "we're all going to get sunburnt!" 

Tonks sighed, although amused, and duplicated her floppy hat so that he could wear one, too. 

"No need to panic, Lupin," Dumbledore patted his shoulder, "Our destination is merely a few steps away, and heavily sheltered." 

One look at the single palm tree that Dumbledore was referring to didn't do Remus any favours. 

"And he's going mad from the heat... I say we turn back now and save ourselves," Remus concluded, sticking his arm back out in the hopes that someone else would be willing to apparate back to Hogwarts with him. 

"Don't be daft, Señor," Sirius chuckled, "I think I know what's going on here." 

Y/N's gaze followed Sirius as he marched towards one of the few palm trees that dotted the tiny island, and then they looked on in amazement as Sirius tapped the tree using his wand- the tree was suddenly swallowed up by the ground, and in its place was a spiralling staircase. 

Once they had successfully made their way to the bottom, the group had arrived at the actual destination- a luxurious wizarding resort, stretching out far wider than the horizon had been only minutes ago. 

Y/N couldn't help but feel like a kid in a candy shop. There were endless amounts of bars, dance floors, seating areas, hotels and tuckshops, all placed upon soft white sand. Then, there were swimming pools- but floating ones. 

The first stop was the hotel- and whilst everyone practically had a gigantic suite to themselves, Sirius sauntered into hers with a lopsided grin. 

"Lets cut to the chase and place my suitcase in here, Señorita," he wiggled his eyebrows, and she had to stifle a laugh to ensure that she didn't egg him on. 

"Please, for the love of Godric, stop calling people that. We aren't in Spain..." she pinched his shirt, "or in Hawaii."

Ignoring her, he began to test out the magical room service- all you had to do was simply think of something that you desired, and the item would appear on the table. A packet of cigarettes, a small glass of Firewhisky, and a packet of Cheese and Onion crisps were soon in his hands as he collapsed onto the bed. 

"Merlins right testicle, doll, come and sit on this bed," he grinned, his hair spread out on the pillowy duvet. 

Y/N, however, couldn't hear him, as she was busy opening the door. 

"Already getting ready for bedtime, Sirius?" Harry asked mockingly, having embraced Y/N with a hug as he entered the room and peered around. 

Sirius clutched his chest and pretended to be worried, "Oh, great chosen one, I am ever so sorry for enjoying myself on holiday." 

Sirius and his godson erupted into a weak pillow fight, but it was soon halted as everyone else joined them, under the false notion that the couples suite were some sort of meeting place. 

"Go easy on him, Hazza," Fred laughed, "I suppose that old men such as him need their beauty sleep." 

Now, Sirius was really protesting, "Old men? Old men! Y/N, I beg of you, shut him up for me." 

"If you want to shut him up," Y/N grinned, "you should get up and prove it to us lot." 

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "and how am I supposed to do that?" 

George shrugged, "as you say, old man... we are on holiday. And young fellows like ourselves spend holidays raving, rampaging... causing mischief, so to speak."

"That's a load of wank, and you know it," Sirius wagged a finger at them, disregarding his packet of crisps. He took a large gulp of his drink before standing up and rolling up his sleeves once more, "there's one thing that you little kids are forgetting- I'm the Sirius Black. I invented partying." 

"Is that so?" Fred and George said in unison, looking rather excitable at the prospect of riling him up. 

"It is so, tweedledumb and tweedledumber," Sirius grinned, "Y/N, you are a designated oldie like me now. Let's show that lot how it's done." 

Sirius waved the others out of the room and instructed them to meet them outside in ten minutes time, finally leaving him and Y/N alone together. He took her by the hand and spun her around, pulling her in close so that he could whisper in her ear: 

"Just so you know, doll, the bed is really soft. You'll find out about that later when I fuck you on it." 

She couldn't help but bite her lip, thinking about all the things that they would get up to later on, and she realised that she was still biting her lip once they met the others by a cascading waterfall. 

"Right then, the Oldies against the prepubesent gobby-" Sirius began, clasping his hands together. 

"-Sirius!" Molly said warningly, although she only half meant it as she sipped on Sangria wine happily. 

"-apologises, Mrs Weasley," he nodded curtly, "I suppose that we should choose team names instead. First, gather in your groups!" 

The Order split into two: Y/N, Sirius, Tonks, Remus, Bill, Fleur and Charlie in one team, and Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George in another. 

Alastor, who didn't partake in anything that involved distraction from constant vigilance, and Dumbledore, who insisted that he would have to form a subgroup due to his much older age, both opted out alongside Molly and Arthur, who promised to keep tabs on where they ventured off to. 

"Team name?" Sirius asked his teammates, who were now all adorning purple hawaiian shirts. 

"Almighty Dragons," Charlie said quickly. 

"And what are you lot called?" Y/N asked, turning around to face the other group, who were all wearing t-shirts with the words "ginger ninjas!" emblazoned on it. 

"I'm assuming the Ginger Ninjas," Remus chuckled, "if that's the case, we should sort out a few things..." with a simple swipe of his wand, Harry and Hermione were suddenly sporting garish ginger hair. 

"Lovely," Hermione nodded, "now then, Almighty Dragons, from what I've read, we can organise this in a few different ways-" 

"-last group to the nearest bar has to buy the others endless shots!" Sirius yelled, cutting her off. 

That marked the beginning of a day filled with endless activities- the Ginger Ninjas had to buy endless shots for the Almighty Dragons, but in the end, everyone was liqueured up and slightly giddy. 

It didn't take long before the competition simply turned into a rampage of turning everything that they could into an adventure- stealing the golf carts belonging to rich and famous wizards and witches and racing them through tennis courts, occupying a lazer tag room within the leasure centre and zapping the opposing team, freaking little old ladies out by making Sirius wander around in his animagus form but suddenly switch when they went to pet him... the list went on. 

Once they had grown tired and sweaty, the groups piled into the floating swimming pools- but it only sparked Y/Ns imagination. 

"Lets race one another," she called to Ginny, who was bobbing up and down in the water of the swimming pool above them. 

"You're on, Brave," she giggled, using her wand to enchant the Ginger Ninjas swimming pool. They were racing ahead and towards what appeared to be a disco themed rave. 

Tonks, adament that they would still win, whipped out her wand, and soon they were sloshing about in the water and desperately holding on as they sped towards the others. 

And then- crack! 

The glass walls of each swimming pool collided with one another, the smashing sound enough to induce blind panic as the groups began hurtling towards the crowd that were dancing to the blaring speakers of the disco. 

Y/N and Charlie, who were quick to realise what was about to happen, cast their spells together- Charlie cleared the glass and cast a hovering charm, and Y/N turned the water into brightly coloured foam. 

The ignorant wizards and witches that partied below them were then joined by the two groups, and it became a foam party. 

It was clear that the competition was over, but now, the night was merely beginning, and Sirius and Y/N danced it away as their heated bodies pressed into one another teasingly. 

He jokingly smushed the foam into her face, and she attempted to shove some down his boxers with the help of Remus, Bill and Fleur, but he managed to wiggle out of their collective grip and brought Y/N up to the stage to dance in front of the crowd alongside the twins, who were drunkingly rapping together. 

"I think it's time that you showed me how soft that bed is..." she purred into his ear. 

He pulled away, his grip on her shoulders firm, his dampened hair tumbling down and past his face as he removed his wand from his manbun and grinned, "I've been waiting all day for you to say that, doll." 

Doll. 

The duo, however, couldn't seem to make it back to the suite without snogging under each palm tree that they crossed. 

"This is impossible," Y/N panted, as the scruff of his stubble trailed down her neck. 

"Screw the room, then," Sirius breathed, "nearest place is..." 

He looked around, and then his eyes settled for the nearest building- the spa.   
Under the ruse that the couple wanted a steam room treatment, they were soon alone, hotter, and sweatier than before. 

Sirius walked in behind her, a white towel settled just below his v-line and revealing his sculpted torso. Y/N licked her lips, her eyes trailing downwards at the large bulge forming. He leant against the wall and beckoned her towards him, his eyes darkening as his hands trailed down the curves of her body and settling on her lower back. 

She stood on her tip toes so that she could lean in for a kiss, his tounge snaking past hers as his lips searched hers in hunger, the taste of alcohol and smoke mixing together and only making her knees feel weaker in the process. 

"We're drunk?" She asked, her hand settling on his chest as he pulled her in closer so that the bulge pressed against her skin. 

"Don't you recall?" He rasped, "drunk sex is my favourite." 

With that, his lips found hers again, this time more dominantly, one of his hands cupping her face as he pressed her against the wall. His other hand gently disregarded her own towel, and he pressed his forehead against hers as his eyes searched downwards so that he could watch his other hand as his thumb circled her clit. 

Y/Ns lips parted, letting out a silent moan as he quickened his pace, his fingers running past her slick folds before his eyes finally locked back to hers, looking for her reassuring nod. 

She was well past the part of simply wanting him, however. The blue light that emitted from the low ceiling, casting a angelic glow on his dark features and darkening eyes, only turned her on more. The fog of the room meant that she couldn't even see where his towel landed as she tore it away from his body. His erection sprung out, the friction of the towel leaving a slight red mark along it. 

Y/N could just about make out the precum dripping from the tip, but her eyes clamped shut as his palm pressed against her. Two of his fingers slid inside and began lathering up her arousal as his body wrapped around hers. Y/N snaked her arms around his neck and latched onto the skin there, leaving a trail of love bites as he pumped in and out of her, the effects of the alcohol meaning that they swayed slightly every time his fingers thrusted in and out, his thumb still tracing her clit as he did so. 

Her breathing was staggered and ragged as a third finger entered her, but she was soon cut off by a deeper, guttural moan as Sirius knelt down and latched his mouth between her thighs, his tounge tracing circles on the sensitive skin surrounding her core before sucking against her clit, removing his fingers so that they could stroke the wetness that surrounded her thighs. 

Her legs trembled against his firm shoulders as he tilted his head and lazily licked up and down, his nose flicking her clit before his mouth returned to it and sent vibrations running through her as he muttered, "so desperate for me, aren't you, doll? I could watch those legs of yours tremble all day..." 

His words only tormented her and turned her on more, her hips bucking into his face as a wave of pleasure coursed through her as he groaned in bliss against her core. 

"Please, Sirius, please..." she murmured, her hands running through his hair and gripping a hold of him as he pushed two fingers back into her and curved them, searching for her g-spot. 

"Mm," he chuckled, watching her mouth open and close, and then a little gasp escape her lips as his fingers hit the right spot, "there we go, that's it. Does that feel good, doll?" 

"F-fuck-fuck, Sirius, don't stop!" She yelped suddenly as he bit down on her left thigh whilst his other hand held her right calf against the wall so that she could stand upright. Her hips shook wildly as he blew against the mark, "ouch!" 

"Sorry, doll, but what did you expect?" His lips formed a slight smirk as he watched the pleasure climbing within her, "I am, after all, a dog... I bite." 

Taking a deep breath, he finally stood up and leant back against her, his fingers still curved and gently stroking her g-spot as his mouth moved to the base of her neck, leaving a hot trail as his lips traced it tenderly, lovingly. 

"I'll have time to show you that later, however," he groaned as one of her hands finally gave his throbbing member some attention, "I don't think I can go on much longer without being buried within you, with you on top of me." 

Y/N stifled a moan as she pulled him in for a sensational kiss. Sirius pulled out his fingers and let his hands cup her tits as she stroked him, pushing against his heaving chest as they moved from the wall to one of the marble seats. 

She gave a wicked grin as he planted himself on it and scanned her bodily hungrily, his eyes only darkening further as her legs fell either side of him as she straddled him, "and what is it that you are planning on showing me later, babe?" 

"Well-well‐fffuck, you feel so good-" he gave a low groan, as he pushed his fingers into her mouth, presumably so that she could taste herself, "-If I recall correctly, you said that-that you thought that sex where you had to do all of the work was my favourite." 

Y/N gave him a smug look, "well, I seem to be doing all of the work now." 

Her head fell in the gap between his shoulder and neck as her gripped her firmly, lowing her onto him as she attempted to adjust to his size. 

He growled, although slightly amused, "I can help you out, if that's what you are insinuating..." 

Without warning, he began thrusting up into her, her walls squeezing against his throbbing cock and her wetness slick against his thighs as he gasped with the sensation of each thrust. 

Y/N couldn't contain her moans now- her hands planted on his shoulders as his trailed her body, palmed her breasts and traced circles on her clit as she bounced back against him, causing the friction and frustrated tension to grow until she finally came undone against him. 

"Fuck," he grinned, "don't think that this lets you off easy later." 

"Let me help you," she kissed against the stubble of his jaw, "I don't think I can walk back to suite right now, anyways." 

His fingers combed through her hair lovingly, but he simply shook his head, "clean up your mess like a good girl- I'll carry you back." He pushed her head downwards, and Y/N understood. Her tounge traced against his tip, which was angrily red, and along the base as she fondled his balls, her head bobbing up and down as she licked around his thighs and reached for a towel scattered along the floor to assist her. 

Once they were cleaned up and dressed, Sirius carried her bridal-style past the reception desk, a look of pure confusion etched upon the workers faces making the duo laugh. 

"Thank you for the lovely, ever so relaxing facilities, ladies!" Sirius chimed, as they made their way back to the suite. 

After a long day and night spent in Bora Bora, the drunkeness was beginning to wear off. They chugged glasses of ice cold water and dined on whatever they pleased from the magical room service. 

Tucked into the impossibly soft sheets of the bed, the couple snuggled against one another and spoke for what must of been hours, as the resort grew quiet outside. 

Eventually, Sirius got up to use the bathroom, and when he returned, his eyes wandered to his hawaiian shirt that she now wearing. 

"Take it off," he mumbled, his lips parted as he leant against the doorframe. 

"Why?" She asked, although she knew the answer- she just wanted to hear Sirius say it. 

He raised his eyebrows, "y'know why. I think it's time that I put in all the work for a change, doll."

Doll. 

"Well, you should come and take it off yourself, then." Y/N said soothingly, laying down and looking up at the ceiling. Her view was soon blocked as he loomed over her with a smirk. 

"I see how it is," he tutted, "this is how my little slut wants to play tonight, huh?" 

She felt her cheeks glow red just at the seductiveness of his voice as he undressed her, his hands finding their rightful place besides the curves of her body. Then, he flipped her around so that her left cheek rested against the fluffy pillows and faced the window, looking out at the stunning scenery. 

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said with a low growl, "now where did I put my wand?" 

"It's in your bun," Y/N giggled, trying to turn her head to look up at him. 

But he was sat on top of her lower back, and his hand hooked onto her neck and pushed her back down into the pillow, "I'm going to do all the work, doll. I don't even want you to lift a finger..." 

Following the words that he uttered, Y/N presumed that he had used his wand to mutter the incarcerous spell, because her hands were bounded tightly together, leaving her writhing beneath him as he chuckled slightly. 

"There we go. Now you won't be even be able to lift a finger," his hands stroked down the slope of her back, tucking her hair out of the way by sweeping it to one side. 

The anticipation left her on edge, she couldn't help but want him to pound into her there and then, but Sirius took his time to caress her, clearly enjoying watching her whimper and squirm with every touch. 

"Please, Sirius, I swear to Merlin-" 

"Sh," he rasped, "patience." 

Y/N sighed and rested her head back down onto the pillow, feeling the sensation of his lips against her skin as he peppered soft kisses against her bounded hands and up her arms, before reaching her neck and settling there. 

Still ravishing her neck with attention, he separated her thighs with his knee before shifting on the bed so that he was further away from her. Then, he pulled at the rope that was tied against her hands until she was forced to bend into doggy style. 

"Good girl," he muttered, pecking her lower back before finally giving in. 

One of his hands found their way around her throat and wrapped around it, his other guiding his tip against her folds before pushing into her with gritted teeth. 

"Siri-Sirius," Y/N breathed, closing her eyes as his thick cock pushed into her, her walls already tightening around him and begging for release. 

"That's right," his teeth still gritting together, "I want to hear you scream my name, doll. Don't worry, I've done all the spells." 

With that, he began rubbing her thighs and let her jagged breaths return to steady ones. The feeling of his tight grip still lingered around her burning throat, and all she could do was stay still and listen to the sound of their bodies slamming together as he thrusted in and out of her, his chest heavy as the blood rushed through his veins and towards his dick. 

Frustrated at her determination to gain control, he tugged on the rope so that she was kneeling in front of him and pinched her nipples. 

"Look outside, can you see? Someone could see me fucking you like this- watch you as you wriggle next to me," he muttered into her ear, "would you like that, doll?" 

Y/N shook her head, gasping at the feeling of him burying as much of himself as he could into her. 

"Or would you prefer to be screaming my name, and nobody hear you? Make the decision, doll." 

"Fu-fuck! OK, fine!" She finally gave in and let out the moans that she had been stifling, her lip sore from biting it as the tension built up between her legs. 

"That's what I thought," he said through gritted teeth once more, "go on then, doll. I can't hear you." 

He tugged on the rope harder now, the feeling of it digging into her skin causing her to yelp. One of his hands fell from the rope and down onto her hip, and he massaged it gently before holding onto it and using his force to push her body into hers with each tantalising thrust. 

"Ohhh- oh," she groaned, her vision of the scenery blurry as her eyes clouded from the pleasure, "I can't take it anymore, Sirius- Sirius! I'm gonna-" 

With only a few more sharp thrusts, Y/N felt an internal orgasm rush through her, and yet Sirius continued to pound into her until her contracting walls milked him to his own release. 

He pulled out, and because he hadn't came last time, he pumped his shaft and made a mess on her lower back, furious spouts of cum leaking over her sweaty complexion. 

After cleaning up, uncasting the spells and healing her red hands, Sirius fell to a tired heap next to her and laughed, "don't suppose I can be the little spoon tonight?" 

Y/N chuckled, "forever and always."


End file.
